Not For Anything: Discovering Hogwarts
by Penitent Rebel
Summary: Part One of the "Not for Anything" series. AU. James Potter is alive and raising Harry. Goes through Harry's first year at Hogwarts. Rated T.
1. Transfiguration Troubles

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters._

_Disclaimer, part deux: This story will contain one scene of mild corporal punishment of a minor as well as references to child abuse. I'll put warnings above any chapter where this occurs so you can skip it if you're sensitive to that sort of thing._

_Rated T_

* * *

Harry Potter sat on the swings at a small park a few blocks from his house. It was the first day of his summer holiday. He would be eleven soon and, come September, he would be leaving for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was excited at the thought of going to the school, but a little nervous about leaving home. He couldn't decide if he wanted the summer to go past quickly or slowly. If today were any indication, it would be slow. The first morning of the hols, and he was already bored. He kicked at the ground with his foot before kicking off and starting to swing. The swings had always been one of his favorite pastimes; it was almost like flying.

So lost in his own thoughts was he that he didn't realize he wasn't alone on the little playground until he heard a familiarly unpleasant voice call out, "Look, it's Fairy Potter!"

Harry immediately recognized the voice as belonging to one Scott Andrews. Scott lived a few houses down from Harry and his dad and was in Harry's class in school. He was, quite possibly, the most unlikable person Harry had ever met. He had refused to call Harry anything but "Fairy" since their first day of school when Harry had stupidly told his teacher all about being a wizard. The teacher had been delighted by the story, praising his vivid "imagination". Even the other children seemed fascinated by his stories, all of them except Scott, who immediately saddled Harry with the hated nickname and, ever since, appeared obviously impressed by his own wit every time he dragged out the boring epithet.

"Leave me alone, Scott," Harry said in his best warning tone. He knew it was a pointless request. This meeting would end in only one way: with Harry running away. If he managed to escape, he would lock himself in his house where Scott couldn't reach him. If he did not, Scott would punch him. That was the kind of boy Scott was; punching people was his favorite activity, and Harry was one of his favorite targets.

Escaping muggle school and Scott Andrews was another reason Harry was looking forward to Hogwarts. He was not so naive as to think there would be no bullies there. His father and Sirius had told him all their stories about Snivellus Snape, after all, but he was quite sure he could avoid them more easily there, where everyone would already know him and where he had built-in friends. It wasn't that Harry didn't have any friends at the muggle school, but it wasn't the same with muggles as it was with his magical friends. For one thing, he could never invite them over to his house to play, so eventually they all seemed to get miffed and stop inviting him round to their houses.

"Why would I want to leave you alone when I could have a spot of fun?" Scott asked, punching his right hand into his left as he advanced on Harry menacingly. Harry quickly hopped off the swing and took off at a full run, but today was not a lucky day. He was nearly home, nearly to safety, when Scott slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground. Harry's glasses went flying off his face and hit the ground with an ominous tinkling sound. Scott turned him over and punched him in the stomach. "You should know better than to run from me, Fairy Potter. It just makes it that much worse when you do." Harry struggled to get away, but it was no use. Scott was bigger and stronger and held him down easily.

Harry felt a familiar prickle of panic course through him as tears sprang to his eyes. "Are you going to blub, you little fairy?"Scott asked, giving Harry a slap across the face. "Go ahead and cry for me." Harry willed himself not to, but it was no use. As the taunts and blows continued, he felt his body betray him as he gasped and the tears came. That was what Scott had been looking for. With a final slap across his face, Scott let him up. "Get out of here, you crybaby fairy, and don't let me catch you on my swings again."

Harry reached for his glasses and was unsurprised to find one of the lenses was gone. His dad would easily fix it, but it enraged him all the same. He ran toward home, slamming the door behind him when he arrived. Harry's dad, James, and James's best mate and Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, were in the living room playing Wizard's Chess. They both looked up when they heard the door slam and were both quickly on their feet when they took in Harry's appearance. His tears were still falling, but now they were tears of rage rather than fear and panic.

"Harry, what's happened?" James asked, his voice full of concern. Harry tried to speak, but found that he was still too upset. He wordlessly showed his father his glasses. "Was it Scott Andrews again?" James asked quietly. Harry could only nod. James sighed and then said, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He half dragged, half carried Harry up the stairs to the bathroom, where he washed Harry's face and, with a single word, mended his glasses. "Would you like me to hex him for you?" James asked, after Harry had calmed.

Harry let out a small laugh. "Yes." he said, his voice still thick with tears.

James smiled sadly. "I wish I could."

"I'll do it." Sirius said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "I don't care."

"No, thank you, Sirius." James said quickly. "I guess I'll go speak to his father."

"You've already done that, Dad! It never changes anything. It just makes it worse for me next time." Harry protested. He was tired and sore, and he wasn't in the mood for any more non-solutions. Adults always seemed to do that, as though they thought talking things out could solve everything. Kids knew better. "Just drop it."

James's face was filled with frustration, but his eyes were soft as he regarded his son. "Very well. I'll stay out of it if that's what you want. Now, why don't you go lie down for a bit. Come down when you're ready, and maybe we'll go flying after lunch." Harry nodded, still too angry to feel any excitement over the prospect of flying. Putting his wand on the edge of the sink, James enveloped Harry in a hug and then walked him to his room.

Harry lay in bed quietly, seething. After about fifteen minutes, he got up to use the loo and was surprised to see his father's wand still sitting on the edge of the sink where James had left it. He picked it up, fully intending to carry it down to his father when a plan dropped abruptly into his brain. Harry smiled a very mischievous smile and sneaked down the stairs and out the back door. Then he went searching for Scott.

He wasn't difficult to find, patrolling the swings with a few of his cronies as though he owned them, occasionally scaring off a younger child and hitting the ones who wouldn't scare at just his words. Harry approached brandishing the wand. "It's Fairy Potter!" Scott said with glee. "I guess you didn't learn your lesson earlier. Well, I guess I'll just have to teach it to you again."

Harry had no idea what to do, but he pointed the wand at Scott as he had seen his father do so many times. "Do something." he whispered to it urgently and a jet of blue light shot out the tip and hit Scott in the face. When the light had cleared, Scott stood before him looking very confused. His features had taken on a distinctly canine quality. His face was covered in fur, his nose replaced by a long snout with a wet black nose on the end. His ears had grown floppy and, between his very hairy legs, Harry could make out a tail. Harry laughed so hard he nearly fell to the ground. Scott's mates' eyes grew wide as they took in the changed image of their friend.

"Christ, Potter!" one of them exclaimed as they all backed away, breaking quickly into runs.

"What did you do?" Scott shouted, the pitch of his voice rising in panic. He began to cry, and suddenly Harry didn't find this funny anymore. He had meant to get even, but he never expected Scott to cry.

"_Well,_" he told himself, "_he always makes you cry_," but that didn't make the hard knot of guilt that had just settled in Harry's stomach go away. "Put him back how he was," he said to the wand, but nothing happened. "Go on, put him back," he ordered the wand, giving it a shake, but the wand refused to obey. Scott took off running toward home and the gravity of what Harry had done hit him with full force. He had stolen his father's wand, he had done illegal underage magic, and he had exposed magic to the muggles.

He stood in the middle of the playground trying to decide what to do. The best thing would be to go home and confess the whole thing to his father. He would be able to put everything right again, and he might even find it funny, though Harry doubted it, at least not at first. He could sneak back in, put the wand back, and hope no one ever found out, but he didn't think that very likely with Scott Andrews the dog-faced boy running about on the loose. Scott would probably run home and tell his parents the whole thing, and then they would probably march right over to tell his father. Harry hated to think of the disappointed look on his father's face when he found out. There was nothing in the world he hated more than disappointing his father. He put the wand in his back pocket and sat on a swing to think.

* * *

James Potter found it difficult to focus on wizard's chess, and Sirius was beating him handily. He hated to think of Harry being bullied and he kept second-guessing his decision to respect his son's wishes and stay out of it. He knew what Harry said was true. The Andrews boy's parents never seemed to do anything to reign him in. He just couldn't understand it; he couldn't imagine letting Harry get away with behaving like that. He knew he was more lenient with Harry than he should be sometimes, but he would never let Harry bully other children. Never. He had learned too much from his own schooldays and the way he and his friends had treated Severus Snape. He still felt a bit guilty about it if he let himself dwell on it too much.

He started when he heard a knock at the door. That could mean only one thing: muggles. Why would muggles be calling? Selling something, probably. He rose and peeked out the window. It was Scott Andrews' parents, and they had something very odd between them. James had to fight back a laugh as he opened the door and realized what the odd thing was. It was Scott, very badly transfigured to resemble a dog. "Scott says your son did this to him." Mr. Andrews said, sounding unsure of himself. James heard a familiar bark-like laugh as Sirius came and stood behind him. James shot him a look and hoped it would be enough to silence him, but Sirius never had been good at controlling his laughter once he got started. James was sure at least a third of their detentions in his school days had been a result of that unlucky personality quirk.

"Come in, and please ignore my very rude friend." James said. The Andrews family came in and sat uncomfortably on the couch, looking around apprehensively at all the very odd decorations. James knew he'd be modifying their memories when this was over, so he just let them wonder at the moving pictures and the seemingly-alive chess board. He made his way up the stairs to find Harry. He was a little surprised Harry hadn't told him about the accidental magic. Usually he told James these things, just in case James had to clean up after him a bit. James had always made very clear to him that he should not be ashamed of doing accidental magic. It happens to all witches and wizards when they're young. He even told Harry a few stories of messes he'd made when he was young.

Harry's door was closed, so James knocked quietly. No answer. Perhaps Harry was asleep. He cracked the door and peeked in, but the room was empty. "Harry," he called. Then louder, "Harry!" No response. Then he realized what had happened. Harry hadn't done this while the Andrews boy was beating him, but had sneaked out and done it after the beating. Well, James couldn't blame him, and he wouldn't have stopped him going out if he had told James where he was going. He'd have a talk with him about making sure to always tell James before leaving the house.

He reached in his robes for his wand and started when he found it wasn't there. He felt around frantically, but his wand was not on him. Where had he left it? Oh, yes, the bathroom. He had put it on the edge of the sink after cleaning Harry up and he forgot to go back and retrieve it. He went quickly to get it, but it was gone. Only then did he realize what Harry had actually done. Harry had stolen his wand, gone looking for the Andrews boy, and done this to him on purpose. James felt his temper rise. He couldn't believe Harry would do this. He never would have thought it of the boy. He knew better than to play around with magic. He knew how dangerous it could be! James felt his face go hot as he fought to control his anger. He'd have to calm down before he could deal with his son. He went downstairs and asked Sirius for a quick word in the kitchen. Still sniggering, Sirius rose and followed him.

"How about your little Pronglet?" Sirius asked with a laugh. "Very impressive. Reminds me of something we would have done." Sirius's smile faded as James explained the whole situation to him in a hushed voice. "Don't worry. We'll put him right and wipe their memories. Shouldn't be too difficult." he said. "Do you think we should inform the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad?"

James shook his head. "I think we can handle this, but I have to go find Harry." James turned to go.

"Of course, go. I'll take care of things here. But Prongs--" James turned back to face him. "Harry's a good kid. Don't forget that."

"I know he is." James said with a sigh. "But I'm still going to kill him."

"Kill him gently." Sirius said as both men exited the kitchen.

James went out the back door and started calling for Harry. He decided to check Harry's familiar haunts and was not the least bit surprised to find Harry in the first place he looked: the swingset. Harry was rocking back and forth, making circles on the ground with his toe. He looked very forlorn, and James felt his anger dissipate. Judging from his body language, Harry clearly knew he was in big trouble. James approached quietly and sat on the swing next to Harry. He spied his wand sticking out of Harry's back pocket. Clearly the time had come for a conversation on wand safety. He waited for Harry to break the silence. "I guess you know what I did," Harry finally said.

"Yes, I do." James stated. "And for the record, you shouldn't keep a wand in your back pocket. Wizards have been known to lose a buttock that way."

Harry reached into his back pocket and retrieved the wand, returning it to James who took it gratefully. He always felt so exposed without it. "Would you care to explain this to me?" James asked.

"I'm sorry!" Harry said, his voice rising with a slight whinge.

"That's not an explanation." James replied lightly.

"I got the idea when I saw you forgot your wand." Harry began. "I didn't know what I was going to do. I was just mad and I wanted to find him and make him pay for what he did to me. I tried to put him right again; I really did, but your wand wouldn't obey me."

"And why didn't you come find me and tell me what had happened?" James asked pointedly.

"I was scared." Harry admitted. "I didn't want you to be angry."

"Harry, you should never be scared to come to me for help. I am always here for you. Always. Actually, I'd probably be less angry if you had come to me."

"So, you are angry?" Harry asked pitifully.

James's heart just about broke at the distress in his son's voice. He was angry, but he knew Harry would be all the more upset if he told him so. He decided to dodge the question and hope the ruse would would be successful. "What you did was serious, Harry."

Harry hung his head and sniffed in response. "Are you going to punish me?" he asked, a tremor of trepidation in his voice.

"Yes. I think you've earned yourself a spanking," James heard himself say. He wasn't sure where that had come from. Until that moment, he hadn't decided for sure what he would do about his son's transgression, but a spanking was definitely one of the possible punishments that had crossed his mind. He hated spanking Harry so much that he kept trying to come up with another idea as he searched, but his mind kept coming back to spanking. As soon as he heard himself say it, he realized that it was the best punishment for the situation, much as he hated it. Harry let out the tiniest of whimpers in response, and James thought he, James, might cry. He had spanked Harry only twice before, and both times he had felt this way. The first time, he actually did cry along with Harry a bit. The second, he came very close to it.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, sounding very close to tears.

"Harry, come here." James said. Harry rose slowly, hanging his head, and stood in front of James. "Look at me, please." Harry jerked his head up, his glistening emerald eyes - Lily's eyes - meeting James's eyes. James almost lost his nerve then. There had been a couple of times that looking in his son's eyes _had_ caused him to lose his nerve and go too easy on the boy, but he knew this could not be one of those times. He forced all thoughts of leniency and sentimentality out of his head.

He took Harry's hands in his own, gently intertwining their fingers, and began to lecture. "What you did was very dangerous. You could have really hurt that boy. You could have hurt yourself. Magic is not a game, Son. It is only to be used responsibly. Do you understand me?" Harry nodded, a single tear leaking out of his left eye. "Good, now let's go home." James rose from the swing, taking hold of Harry's hand. Harry dragged his feet, sniffling, and James settled into Harry's pace. They'd get home eventually either way. Let the boy delay the inevitable if that was his desire.

Sirius was waiting for them when they got back. "I took care of everything, even the little prat's friends," he informed them both.

"Thank you, Padfoot," James said, feeling an overwhelming gratitude for his friend. Sometimes he didn't know what he would do without Sirius and his other good mate, Remus Lupin. After his wife, Lily, was murdered by Lord Voldemort, he and Harry had stayed at Sirius's place for over a year until James managed to get back on his feet. Even now, his two friends took an active role in helping to raise Harry. Now, Sirius was the Astronomy professor at Hogwarts, and James felt infinitely better about sending his son off to school knowing Sirius would be there to watch out for him and protect him from Snivellus who, James was quite sure, would have no qualms whatsoever about abusing the innocent son of his old enemy.

"Thanks," Harry whispered, followed by, "I'm sorry, Sirius."

Sirius shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Little prat deserved it if you ask me."

"Sirius!" James said sharply.

"Oh, er, but you shouldn't have done it." Sirius quickly backpedaled.

"Harry, go up to your room. I'll be up in a bit." James ordered. Harry exited slowly, still dragging his feet. Both men stood silently until they heard his bedroom door close.

"What are you going to do, mate?" Sirius asked.

"That's between us," James replied, not unkindly. He knew Harry would be embarrassed if anyone, even Sirius, knew about his being spanked.

"Fair enough," Sirius replied. "I don't know how you do it, James. It's hard enough to be strict with the students. I can't imagine having to punish the Pronglet."

"What if he misbehaves in your classes? Are you going to let him get away with it?"

"He won't misbehave in my classes." Sirius replied easily. "And if he does, I'll transfigure him into a very fluffy pink kitten. That'd teach him."

James laughed, imagining Harry as a pink kitten. "If you did that, I'd have to hex you, mate."

"Well, then, let's hope he never misbehaves in my classes." Sirius said with a laugh, "because I'd never let you get away with hexing me."

"Go on, then. Get out of here." James said, clapping Sirius on the shoulder.

Still laughing, Sirius replied, "Don't smack him too hard," before turning on his heel and disappearing with a loud pop.


	2. Repercussions and Relations

_Warning for corporal punishment_

* * *

James's smile faded as soon as Sirius was gone. Time to face the music. He trudged up the stairs, knocked on Harry's door, and entered his son's room.

Harry was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest. Tears made their way silently down his face. The other two times James had come in here to spank him, Harry had been sitting in the exact same position. The first time, Harry had gotten angry at James and run away to Sirius's house. When he arrived at Sirius's place and Sirius immediately told on him, Harry had been filled with indignation as only a five-year-old can be.

He was so angry he wouldn't even go home with James at first, but finally Sirius had threatened to hex him if he didn't go home and behave himself. James never was sure if it was the threat or the knowledge that he'd managed to make the easy-going Sirius angry enough to shout at him that convinced Harry to go, but he had agreed to come home after that. He threw a tantrum when James informed him he'd be getting a spanking and scowled at James as James lectured him.

James had been a little afraid he wouldn't submit to the spanking, angry as he was. James remembered having done that a few times when he was a boy and thought his father's punishments were unjustified. Usually, his father had just let him stew in his room until hunger or boredom or both led him to the conclusion that a spanking would be an acceptable price to pay for his freedom, but once, when he was nine, James had stubbornly refused to submit for a day and a half.

Finally, after much pleading from his mother, who seemed to think missing a days' worth of meals would cause her dear son to starve to death, his father had come in before dinner on the second day, overpowered him, and given him the promised smacking. James had always been the type to accept his punishments philosophically, but he couldn't help resenting his father that day. Although it was the same in form as every other spanking he had ever received, that spanking had felt different, somehow, like it was something being done _to_ him rather than something being done _for_ him. It was three days later before he finally forgave the old man. The last thing he would ever do was put Harry through the same thing.

Luckily, though, when the time had come Harry submitted and after only two smacks was crying brokenly across his father's lap. James had given him one more smack for good measure before letting him up. All traces of anger seemed to be gone as he cried in James's arms. He was glad Harry was too distracted with his own tears to notice that James was crying into the top of his precious little head. Afterward, Harry had issued no less than twenty apologies to both James and Sirius and, surprisingly, Remus as well. None of the men quite followed his logic for that one, as Remus had been out of the country at the time and blissfully unaware. Remus insisted it was because he was the only person to ever properly discipline the boy. James, knowing what had transpired between them in the bedroom, begged to differ.

The last time James had had to spank Harry was completely different. Then, Harry had leapt off the bed upon seeing his father and wrapped his little arms around James's waist, sobbing out his apologies all the while. This time, James waited for him to do so again, but Harry did not move. James reminded himself that Harry's last spanking had been three years ago and that the boy probably thought himself far too old and mature to do something like that now. James also suspected from the apprehensive look that Harry was giving him that he would very much like to.

James crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry. He put an arm around Harry's shoulder, and Harry immediately turned and buried his head in James's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he said desperately.

"Yes, you've said that a few times." James said lightly. "And I want you to know that I appreciate your apology." James sat silently for a moment, not sure what to say. "I love you very much, Harry," he said finally. He felt Harry nod into his shoulder. "No matter what happens or what you do, I will always love you more than life itself, and I wish I didn't have to punish you, but I do. I think you know that what you did was dangerous."

Harry nodded again. "But I've learned my lesson. I don't need a spanking. I won't do it again, Dad. I promise," he said, lifting his head and turning his red-rimmed eyes on James.

James put a hand on either side of his son's face, cupping it tenderly in his hands. "This is not up for discussion. You know better than to play around with magic." He said, forcing his voice to be stern. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to agree with Harry and let him off. "Stand up," he ordered.

Harry scooted slowly off the bed and took the two steps that put him in front of his father, hanging his head. "Please, I just wanted him to leave me alone," he whispered. James sighed. Harry certainly wasn't going to make this easy on him.

"Harry," James said quietly, placing a hand under his son's chin and gently lifting his head until their eyes met. "I won't tell you that I don't understand why you did what you did. You are not in trouble for defending yourself. You are in trouble for stealing my wand and using magic irresponsibly. Do you understand that?" Harry nodded and James continued. "Good. I will never punish you for standing up for yourself, but you may never do it in such a way that you put yourself or others in danger like you did today. Now come and lie down across my lap."

Harry sniffled as he obeyed, bending over James's lap. James closed his eyes a moment and steeled his emotions. He hated this. Absolutely, completely, and unequivocally hated it. He thought he would have given anything in the world not to have to do it. When he was a boy, he knew that his father didn't like spanking him, but he never would have imagined he hated it this much. As he raised his hand and brought it down smartly across his son's backside, he was quite sure all parents hated it this much and that no child had any idea.

As soon as it was over, James let Harry up and handed him a handkerchief, which Harry took gratefully and immediately used to hide his face. After a few moments to himself, Harry launched himself into James's arms, crying repentantly into his chest. James hugged him tightly, forcing down the lump in his own throat. He was not surprised when the apologies started, and he let Harry say them. He remembered from his own boyhood that it would make him feel better. When Harry's tears were dry, James let him go and sat down again on the bed, looking Harry in the eye. "I love you, my son."

Harry nodded. "I love you too, Dad." he said.

"I'm going to go downstairs now. Come down when you're ready and we'll have lunch."

Harry nodded. James turned and left, closing the door. He heard the distinctive sound of a certain ten-year-old flinging himself melodramatically on the bed as he made his way down the stairs. He stifled a laugh. He had always done the exact same thing the second his father was out the door. Harry would sulk for a bit, James knew, but then everything would be back to normal.

James had soup and sandwiches waiting for Harry when he came down. Harry gulped them down hungrily and was relieved when his dad started making small talk. That meant he was forgiven. "I've been thinking we should go ahead and get our family obligations out of the way early this summer." Harry groaned. "Family obligations" meant visiting the Dursleys.

"Aw, Dad, do we have to?" Harry asked. He hated the Dursleys, but Petunia was his mother's sister and, for some reason Harry could never understand, his father insisted that they visit them for a week every summer. James wanted him to have a connection to his mother's family, but the Dursleys were horrid. Even their names were horrid. There was Petunia, who resembled nothing so much as a two-legged palomino. She always looked at Harry and James as though they were a particularly putrid stench under her nose. Then there was Vernon, who looked more like a beet and seemed to pulse with anger whenever Harry was nearby. Finally, there was their spoiled son Dudley who was about as dull as wet paint and nearly as smelly.

Whenever they went to the Dursleys, Harry had to stay in Dudley's second bedroom. Why anyone would need two bedrooms was beyond him. It was filled with Dudley's old, broken toys. The Dursleys were polite enough on the surface. Harry had the distinct impression that James frightened them, though he couldn't imagine why anyone would be frightened of James, unless it was a dark wizard, or himself when he knew he was in trouble. But even then he wasn't scared of James, but rather of his disappointment and, perhaps, his punishments.

"Yes, we do. It's only a week. If we go on and go now, we'll be there for Dudley's birthday. At least that way we'll get to go somewhere fun."

"Have they sent you his list yet?" Harry asked. Every Christmas and birthday, James and Harry got a list from Petunia and Vernon of things Dudley wanted. Usually it was something called video games, which Dudley would play by staring at a window-like thing called a telly and shooting at the little men inside it, who obediently pretended to die. Harry tried it once, much to Dudley's chagrin, but he couldn't get the hang of it. He'd take exploding snap over that any day.

James and Harry were usually quite generous with Dudley. They always bought him something from the list as well as something they would pick out together and some wizard's sweets, which Dudley really seemed to like. Petunia and Vernon did not return the favor. Their gifts for Harry were always dreadful. One year they sent him a moldy book. Another year they gave him a dirty sock. Then there was the year they sent him a pair of neon pink plastic sunglasses with heart-shaped rims.

"Did they forget that I'm a boy?" Harry had asked as he held them as far away from his body as he could. The best year, or worst depending on your point of view, was his sixth birthday when they sent him a drinking straw. At first Harry was very excited, thinking it was a toy wand, but he quickly realized and started to cry, so James took him out and bought him a real toy wand. It was still one of his favorite toys.

When he was younger, he was really hurt by their gifts, but now he found them funny. Opening them was often the highlight of Christmas morning. He and James and Sirius and Remus would make wagers on what the gift would be and the winner would get to choose the manner of disposal for the gift. A few of the gifts even began to circulate between them as joke gifts. Harry would never forget the look on Sirius's face the Christmas when he was eight and Sirius opened his present from Harry to find the horrible pink sunglasses. The next year, Sirius had given them to Remus for his birthday. Then they had gone to James the following Christmas and were with him still. Harry fully expected them to make another appearance at his own birthday next month.

"Yes, it came yesterday. More video games, it looks like. And a new bicycle."

"Let's get him the bicycle. He could use the exercise."

James snorted. "A sound plan."

"Unless he's too big for it and breaks it," Harry added.

"Now that's going a bit too far," James said mildly.

"Sorry," Harry said softly, dropping his head and taking a too-large bite of his sandwich, which he then tried to swallow practically whole. It lodged in his throat and he coughed and sputtered until James came and pounded him on the back.

"All right, there?" James asked, returning to his seat. Harry nodded, his eyes watering.

"Listen, kiddo, I know they're not your favorite people, but Petunia is your mother's sister, and they're the only family we've got. I'd hate to think of you not knowing your mother's family."

"But they hated Mum," Harry protested. "They always say mean things about her."

"They didn't hate her. Petunia and your mother were very close when they were younger, and I've never heard them say a word against her."

"Well, they're not thick enough to do while you're standing there! It's only when you're not there. They say she was a freak. They say you're a freak. They say I'm a freak."

If James was shocked by this news he didn't show it. "And what do you think?"

"I think they're the freaks, and they just go around accusing everybody else of it so they won't feel so bad."

James smiled. "I think you might be onto something there."

"Do we really have to go?"

"Yes. But how about this? While we're there we'll take a day or two and go sight-seeing. Just you and me. No Dursleys allowed."

"All right," Harry agreed. "But I still don't like it."

"The day will come when you'll be glad to have known them."

"I doubt it." Harry retorted.


	3. Activities and Accidents

Privet Drive had to be the most boring place in all of England. There was nothing to do there except watch Dudley play video games. There was a small playground that Harry could go to and, while it had the advantage of having no Scott Andrews to haunt it, there was the decidedly-worse disadvantage that Dudley and his gang would occasionally frequent the place. They were meaner than Scott, but they were also slower, which meant Harry almost always got away from them, but somehow the abuse hurt worse when it was coming from his cousin. At least Dudley didn't beat him up. Dudley was far too afraid of James for that. Usually they would come up with some other type of torture like holding him on the roundabout and spinning him until he sicked up.

James didn't know about any of this and Harry didn't tell him. Harry knew that James didn't much care for the Dursleys as there had been a few times that James and Uncle Vernon had had words. Harry didn't want to be the cause of a row between his father and his uncle, so he kept it to himself. Usually their visits were pleasant enough. Sometimes Petunia seemed to forget that she hated them and would laugh at James's jokes or Harry's antics. When his friends weren't around, Dudley could be quite nice at times, letting Harry try out his toys.

When they were younger, Harry used to like going to the Dursleys to see Dudley, but suddenly last summer, things changed between them. That summer James and Harry discovered when they arrived that Dudley had made some new friends and had turned mean. Now his relationship with Dudley mostly consisted of running and hiding.

The thing Harry hated most about the Dursleys, though, was that he was absolutely forbidden from discussing anything magical around them. That meant he could not discuss quidditch with his cousin or broomsticks or chocolate frog cards or anything else worth talking about. Dudley was only interested in talking about video games and television programs and sometimes football, a very dull muggle game that Harry had occasionally been forced to play at school.

Dudley and Harry's muggle friends always talked about it as if it were the most exciting game in the world, but Harry much preferred quidditch and couldn't understand why anyone would bother watching football at all. He kept that to himself after he let it slip one day when he was about seven. All the other children looked at him like he was from another planet and took the mickey out of him for it. He briefly considered explaining about quidditch - they'd all think he was making it up, anyway - but he stopped when Scott Andrews came up and broke up their conversation. The last thing he needed was to tell another wizarding story and give Scott something else to punch him for.

This visit wasn't shaping up to be one of the pleasant ones for Harry. The first night, Dudley had invited him to come along to his friend Piers Polkiss's house and Harry had stupidly agreed, thinking his cousin had changed back to the way he was two summers ago and would be nice to Harry. Once he was there, though, Dudley and Piers had ganged up on him and put his head in the toilet. Harry got so upset that he accidentally exploded the toilet and James had to come set the house right again and modify the Polkisses' memories. James wasn't angry at Harry - he never was for accidental magic - but he was very angry at Dudley and grew even angrier when he discovered that Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had no intention of punishing him.

Uncle Vernon took offense at James offering him parenting advice and told them to leave his house at once and never come back. James agreed readily and announced that if he was leaving, he'd just take Dudley's birthday presents with him and then Dudley threw a tantrum (his Uncle James's presents were always the best ones, after all) and Petunia cried and Vernon finally apologized and asked them to please stay. They grounded Dudley to his room for the rest of the night just to appease James, but both James and Harry knew that was no punishment at all. All his video games were in his room.

The next morning, Dudley threw a tantrum over having been punished until his parents agreed to buy him an extra early birthday present to make it up to him. Dudley refused to speak to Harry after that, claiming that it was Harry's fault he'd been punished. Harry didn't mind the silence. He thought it an improvement.

Harry was looking forward to Dudley's birthday. They'd be going to the zoo this year. Harry had never been to a zoo. Of course, Dudley and Piers would be there, but Harry was sure they wouldn't do anything to him in front of the adults. If they did, he could always just get lost from the group. James would be annoyed, but not annoyed enough to punish him, and that way Harry and James could enjoy the zoo on their own. The day itself got off to a slow start. Dudley threw a tantrum because he had one fewer present than last year, even with the extra present he'd gotten to make up for having spent a few hours grounded to his room. Harry and James caught one another's gaze and rolled their eyes, but Vernon actually seemed proud of Dudley's behavior.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth," he gloated to James. James gave a smile and nod that only Harry could tell was sarcastic. Finally, Petunia promised to buy Dudley two more presents at the zoo, and that seemed to appease him. The zoo itself was lovely. Everyone but James mostly ignored Harry, and that was the way Harry liked it. They all had chocolate ice cream and fish and chips for lunch. The afternoon found them in the reptile house because Dudley wanted to see the snakes. Dudley and Piers were very taken with the boa constrictor for about two seconds until they realized it was sleeping.

"Dad, make it do something!" Dudley whinged. Vernon tapped on the glass, despite the sign that said very clearly not to, but the snake wouldn't budge. Dudley and Piers went off to look at something more exciting and Harry came up to the glass. When he saw the snake, it did something he did not expect. It winked. Harry started. Had he done magic? He didn't think he had. It didn't feel like he had. He looked back at the snake, which rolled its eyes to the ceiling as if to say, "I get that all the time."

"I guess it gets pretty boring here," Harry said. The snake nodded.

"Where are you from?" Harry asked it. The snake motioned to a sign at the bottom of its glass enclosure that identified it as being from Brazil.

"Do you miss Brazil?" Harry asked. The snake pointed to another sign that said it had been bred in captivity.

Just then Piers noticed what the snake was doing and called to Dudley. They both came running up, pushing Harry down as they did so. He hit the ground hard. The snake promptly shut its eyes and pretended to be sleeping again. From his perch on the ground, Harry glared at them both. Just then the glass enclosure disappeared and the snake came slithering out. Dudley and Piers screamed and Harry gasped. Petunia turned to look at the commotion and froze solid when she saw the snake slithering toward her son.

It slithered up Dudley's leg and wriggled itself around his neck, sticking its tongue out on his cheek. He stood there screaming while Petunia passed out cold. By the time the snake finally slithered away, Dudley was standing in a puddle, Piers was running for his life, and Vernon was running about trying to decide if he should rescue his son or his wife first. Harry was doubled up on the floor laughing. As it exited the reptile house, Harry was sure he heard the boa constrictor say, "Thanksssss, Amigo".

James, who never much liked snakes, had been outside when the ruckus started. He heard the screaming and turned just in time to see the snake exiting the reptile house. He ran inside and picked Harry up off the ground. "Are you hurt?" He asked. Harry shook his head. James lowered his voice to a whisper. "Are you responsible for this?"

"Maybe a little," Harry said sheepishly. "Dudley pushed me."

"Nice one," James whispered approvingly. The two of them stood there watching the commotion with mischievous grins on their faces. The zookeepers were at a loss to explain what had happened. After they finally got her to come round, Petunia was hysterical, and Vernon wasn't much better. Dudley tried and failed to get everyone to pay attention to him, and eventually he got frustrated and threw a tantrum until Vernon clouted him in the back of the head. Then he really began to cry and wouldn't stop until Petunia had promised to buy him three more presents. After that, he made a miraculously speedy recovery.

Only Harry and James seemed to see the humor in the situation. Neither of them could stop snickering while the zookeepers apologized over and over again to the Dursleys. Finally, they all went home, and Petunia went to have a lie down while Dudley changed his clothes and then set about merrily breaking all his new toys. Harry sat morosely in the yard watching him zoom about on the new bike James had bought him. It was enchanted to be uncrashable and to never rust.

Harry kept expecting James to come have a talk with him about what had happened at the zoo, but he never did. Finally, Harry went to him. "About what happened at the zoo today, I didn't mean to."

"I know that," James told him, pulling him into an embrace. "Don't worry about it. Nothing came of it."

"I wish I could control my magic," Harry said sadly.

"I know. I used to get frustrated myself before I went to Hogwarts. Did I ever tell you about the time I turned my mother into a canary?"

Harry laughed and shook his head.

"I was about eight and she was angry at me because I stole her wand. I had stolen it to make her a birthday present, but she wouldn't let me explain. She wouldn't stop shouting at me. I got so angry I lost my temper and, next thing I knew, she was a very angry canary."

Harry laughed and laughed. "How did you get her to turn back?" he asked when he had caught his breath.

"I didn't, though I did have great fun with her wand while she was transfigured. I knew I was in for a spanking either way, so I reckoned I might as well make it worth my while. When my dad got home from work, I had to explain the whole thing to him and he set her mostly right again. Though she did chirp for a few days after."

Harry was laughing loudly at the image of a grown woman chirping.

"And did you get a spanking?" He finally asked his dad.

"Oh, yes, and I deserved it, too. I had no business touching her wand, even if it was to do something nice for her."

"Did you cry?"

James gave Harry a wry look. "Of course. I didn't really mind, though. Getting spanked never much bothered me."

"It bothers me," Harry said, a little too loudly. The memory of his own recent spanking was still quite fresh in his mind.

"I know." James said, running his fingers gently through the boy's hair. "That's why I only do it when you really deserve it. You're getting to be too old for it anyway."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I think so. You're almost eleven, after all. You'll be going to Hogwarts soon. You're practically grown." The two shared a moment of silence before James said, "I'm going to miss you while you're at school."

"I'll miss you too, Dad. I'm a little worried about going to Hogwarts. What if I'm in Slytherin?"

"So what if you are? Sirius might decide he's never speaking to you again, but that wouldn't be much of a loss. Harry, I'm proud of you no matter what. I'll be proud of you whatever house you're in. So don't worry about it."

Harry nodded, leaning into his father's shoulder, relishing the moment. Soon he'd be leaving. He was excited about Hogwarts, very excited, but he hated the thought of being away from home for so long. Sure, Sirius would be there, but it wouldn't be the same. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Harry was glad when the visit to Surrey came to an end. They had borrowed Sirius's flying motorbike to come and would be taking it home again. Along the way, they stopped at Stonehenge because Harry had never seen it. Harry decided he liked it much better than the zoo. They also stopped into Godric's Hollow to visit Lily. This was always one of Harry's least favorite parts of their trips to Surrey because James never could see Lily's grave without crying. Harry never understood why he would want to do such a thing to himself. Seeing his father's grief, still so fresh after nearly ten years, always made Harry cry, too.

"It's my fault she died, you know." James confessed tearfully to Harry. "I wasn't there. I was off visiting Sirius. I was so selfish, Harry. I can't believe how selfish. All I could think about was how much I resented being a prisoner in my own home."

"Because of me," Harry added sadly.

"No. No, Harry, I never thought of it that way. I would have done that and more to keep you safe. It was because of Voldemort. Don't ever blame yourself."

"Well then you shouldn't blame yourself, either." Harry said.

James looked down at his son and smiled. "When did you get so smart?" He asked approvingly.

"I think it must have been yesterday." Harry said after a moment's thought, and James let out a small laugh through his tears. Harry asked, as he did every time they came to Godric's Hollow, if they could go see the house. Sirius and Remus had told them it had been left up and turned into a monument. James never would go. He insisted he'd seen more than enough of that house the night he returned to it to find it destroyed. He wouldn't let Harry go, either. He didn't think Harry was ready to see.

When they arrived home, a letter from Hogwarts was waiting for them. Harry opened it slowly, trying to commit everything about it to memory, from the feel of the weighty parchment to the emerald green color of the ink, to the slanted handwriting. James watched him open it, a smile on his face. "You're much calmer than I was. I ripped the envelope to bits trying to get the letter out."

The letter itself turned out to be a not very exciting thing, just an acceptance letter and a list of supplies. James took the list and read it, saying, "I guess we'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow and pick these things up. Should be fun. I'll ask Sirius and Remus to come along. I'm sure they're both eager to celebrate with you."

"That sounds great!" Harry said with a smile before running off excitedly to send an owl all his friends.

After he was gone, James pulled a small mirror out of his robes and called Sirius. "Harry's letter came," he said, a touch of sadness in his voice.

"Brilliant!" Sirius said, enthusiastically.

"Yes, I suppose," James said. "Only I'm not ready for him to go."

"Well, you still have the summer, and it's not like he's moving to the moon."

"I know, it's just that sometimes I think he ought to still be four years old and sucking his thumb. I can't figure out when it was that he got so old."

"Probably the same time we did. Did you know I'm going to turn thirty-two this year? Thirty-two! I still feel like I'm about sixteen half the time."

"You still act like you're about sixteen half the time."

"It's called having fun, Prongs. You should stop worrying so much and try it some time."

"We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get his things. Would you like to come along? I'm going to ask Remus as well. I figured you two would like to congratulate him properly."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. Is he excited?"

"Oh, yes, he's off sending owls to half the country. It wouldn't even surprise me if some of his muggle friends get one tonight."

"Dad, I've just realized!" Harry's voice came floating down the stairs. "I get to have a wand!"

"Merlin's pants!" James exclaimed. "Look out, Hogwarts. He's coming. And he'll be armed."

Sirius laughed. "Listen, mate, you've got to cheer up. Don't make me come over there. You know what, maybe I should. Maybe I should come over there and get the both of you drunk. The Pronglet could probably use a night of revelry if you've been acting like this all week."

"I haven't. Only tonight. Our visit to the Dursleys was mildly entertaining. Harry exploded a toilet."

"I don't think I've ever been more proud than I am at this moment."

"He also released a boa constrictor at the zoo. It went slithering up Dudley's leg, and he wet himself. Petunia got so scared she passed out cold. I don't think I've ever seen anything more glorious in all my life." James reported, laughing at the memory.

Sirius joined in the laughter, a look of pure joy on his face as he imagined the scene. Finally, he said, "I don't understand why you keep making Harry go there. Why do that to yourself?"

"Because family's important, and they're the only family he's got. Besides, I had to visit my miserable relatives when I was small, and now I've got great stories to tell. Surely your life would be incomplete if you'd never heard the story of how my Great Uncle Maximilian went barmy in his old age and started dressing like a muggle woman. When he's grown, he'll tell the story of the exploding toilet and his children will laugh until they shoot pumpkin juice out their noses. Then he'll be glad he went. That's an image no parent should ever miss. That's half of why I always save my best stories for dinnertime."

"Devious to the last, you are."

"That's why you like me. If I were boring, you'd never come round."

"That's probably true. I like you, mate, but not that much."

"The feeling's mutual."

"You should go make sure Harry's not giving your poor owl too much work to do. And you had best do something with him to celebrate. If I get there tomorrow and find out you just stayed home moping all night, I'm going to turn you into a snake and set you on Petunia."

"Perish the thought. Come round tomorrow about ten."

"I'll be there."


	4. Conversations and Connections

"Sirius! Remus! I got my letter to Hogwarts!" Harry yelled as soon as they stepped over the grate the next morning.

"I know," Sirius said smiling. "I had three owls from you about it."

"Sorry," Harry said, blushing slightly. "I kept forgetting who I'd already sent them to."

"I had four owls," Remus said after Harry had run excitedly out of the room to get his letter and show it off. "Do you think that means he likes me better?"

"I think that means you're more forgettable."

In Diagon Alley, Harry flitted excitedly from store to store. James let him buy, and eat, so many sweets that he was soon chattering almost nonstop. As soon as Harry was suitably distracted by his robe fitting, Sirius and Remus sneaked away and returned with the most beautiful snowy owl Harry had ever seen. "This is amazing!" Harry enthused. The owl took his mind off the very unpleasant exchange he had just had in the robes shop with a boy his own age. Harry had never seen the boy before, but that didn't mean much. Even though his dad was well-connected through his family, his position as an auror, and his general popularity since his school days, Harry really didn't know that many wizards. The boy had a pale, pointed face and white-blonde hair. Harry took an immediate dislike to him, finding him more unpleasant than even Scott Andrews, which Harry would not have thought possible only a few hours before.

"Are you going to Hogwarts, too?" the boy drawled in a bored voice. "What house are you going to be in?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"Well, no one really knows before they get there, do they? But I think I'm going to be in Slytherin. All my family have been. Could you imagine being in Hufflepuff? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"All my family have been in Hufflepuff," Harry said coldly. It was a lie, but he wanted to say something to shock this boy.

"Really," the boy said, "Well then I feel sorry for you." Then the boy turned away, clearly done with the conversation. Harry was glad he didn't have to talk to the boy anymore.

Harry told his dad, Sirius, and Lupin about his conversation with the boy in the robes shop as they ate lunch.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin?" Sirius asked. "If you end up in Slytherin, I'll disown you."

"You can't disown me, Sirius," Harry replied.

"Harry, don't worry," Remus said. "If you're in Slytherin, we'll all care about you just as much."

"Speak for yourself," Sirius said, but Harry could see the twinkle in his eye that said he was joking.

James elbowed Sirius hard in the ribs. "Stop traumatizing my son."

"Who's traumatizing him? I'm just telling it like it is." Sirius replied. "The Pronglet appreciates my honesty. Don't you, Pronglet?"

"Not so much," Harry retorted with a grin. "I think I'm going to be in Slytherin now just to spite you."

"You do and I'll turn you into a newt, a purple one." Sirius was smiling as he said this.

"If you do that, I'll turn _you_ into a pink cockroach. You can't threaten me anymore, Sirius Black. I'm going to have my own wand soon," Harry said, trying and failing to hide his smile. James's and Remus's raucous laughter didn't help him in this endeavor.

"I think you're bluffing," Sirius said, laughing.

"I don't think you'll have any trouble at all getting into Gryffindor," Remus cut in. "If putting Sirius Black in his place doesn't constitute bravery, I don't know what does."

"Whose side are you on, Moony?" Sirius asked, his expression hurt but his eyes still twinkling with merriment.

"Harry's," Remus responded immediately.

"What is the world coming to when a chap can't even depend on his friends to help him bully his godson?"

"Can I go to Gambol and Japes?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Sure," James said, "We'll go to Flourish and Blotts and get your books. Meet us there in half and hour. Here, you'll need some money." James handed him a small bag of coins and Harry trotted off happily. "He's really worried about being in Slytherin. This is the third or fourth time he's said something about it," James said when Harry was out of earshot.

"Oh," Sirius said, his smile fading, "I didn't know he was really worried about it. I hope he knows I was only taking the mickey."

"I'm quite sure he does," Remus said. "He can hold his own against you, you know."

"I've trained him well," James commented. "I wish I could convince him not to worry so much. He's too serious. He's only ten. Maybe I should keep him home another year."

"I don't think that's a good idea, mate," Sirius said.

"I agree. I don't think there's anything to be gained by keeping him home. He's plenty mature enough to go to Hogwarts. Think how he'll feel watching Ron and Neville go off without him."

"There is that," James admitted. "But I'm not ready to let him go."

Sirius gave a small, weak smile. "When are we ever ready to let the people we love go? But that's just what we have to do if we love them. He's growing up, Prongs, and the tighter you try to hold him the more he'll just slip through your fingers. What you have to do now is let him soar and be his solid ground when he lands."

"That was almost poetic, Padfoot." James said, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't worry, I won't let it happen again," Sirius assured his friends. "Besides, you have to send him. I've been waiting six years to finally have him in my classes. You can't keep him from me any longer."

"I'm glad you're going to be there. I'll feel much better about sending him off knowing you can look after him." James said.

"Of course I'll look after him, and I'll certainly never fill his head full of ideas for pranks."

"Oh, I think he'll come up with ideas for pranks well enough on his own. Remus, I didn't get a chance to tell you what he did to his cousin at the zoo."

James recounted the story as the three old friends made their way, laughing, to Flourish and Blotts to buy the very supplies that Harry would need to fly away from them.

Harry arrived in Flourish and Blotts right on time with a bag full of jokes. He showed them off and chatted merrily about his plans for them while the group made its way to Ollivander's for his wand. Along the way, they ran into Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper. Harry, James, Sirius, and Remus greeted him warmly. "I'm on my way to Gringotts," Hagrid told them, "Hogwarts business. Top secret. Dumbledore trusts me, see. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Indeed," James agreed. Harry knew Dumbledore a little. They had met once or twice. Harry was consistently awed by his presence. They wished Hagrid a good day and continued to the wand shop.

"I hope his Hogwarts business isn't really top secret. Hagrid couldn't keep a secret in a locked box." Sirius told them as they walked.

"Oh, he kept a few of our secrets, didn't he?" Remus said wryly.

"More than a few," James replied darkly.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Secrets," James replied.

"What kind of secrets?"

"If we told you, they wouldn't be secrets anymore." Sirius said, reaching over to give Harry's head a playful push.

Ollivander's was a musty shop filled with a maze of floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed full of boxes. Harry stared about him in wonder. This was the thing he had been most excited for: getting his own wand. He was almost dancing with impatience as they waited for Ollivander to come and wait on them. Ollivander himself was tall and slender with wild silver hair that whipped about his face giving him a slightly mad look. He approached the group and greeted Harry. "Harry Potter," he said. "I've been expecting you."He reached out and touched Harry's scar. "Is that where he--"

"Yes," James answered quickly.

"I sold the wand that did it, I'm sorry to say. Yew and Phoenix feather. 13 ½ inches."

He recited to James, Sirius, and Remus all the details about their wands. Then he recited Lily's as well. "I remember every wand I've ever sold," he told Harry. He began measuring every inch of Harry. He measured from his wrist to his elbow, the distance between his fingers, the length of his legs, the space between his nostrils. After only a few measurements, Ollivander began whipping frantically around the shop pulling boxes off the shelves. The tape measure continued to work until Ollivander clapped his hands and told it to stop just as it was attempting to force its way into Harry's mouth to measure the space between his tonsils. It rolled itself into a circle and dropped to the floor. Ollivander came up to Harry, handed him a wand, and stood staring at him expectantly.

"What should I do?" Harry asked.

"Just give it a wave," Remus whispered.

Harry did so, hoping he didn't look as foolish as he felt. Some sparks shot out of the end. Ollivander whipped it away and handed Harry another one only to yank it away before Harry had even had a chance to wave it properly and replace it with yet another. It went on like that until Harry started to get impatient. "What's he looking for?" He whispered to his dad as Ollivander went off in search of more wands.

"You'll see," James answered with a wink. "When he gets the right one, you'll know."

"I wish he'd hurry up about it."

Sirius chuckled. "So impatient," he said to James. "You'd think he was your son or something."

Ollivander returned and gave Harry three more wands before anything exciting happened. Ollivander presented him with a holly and phoenix feather wand and, as he reached out to take it, he felt a strange warmth in his hand that made his arm tingle all the way up to his elbow. Ollivander clapped his hands and danced a little jig. James, Remus, and Sirius whooped. Sirius even lifted his robes and jumped up, clicking his heels in the air before falling on his face.

"Curious," Ollivander said, "very curious."

"What's curious?" Harry asked, trying to ignore Sirius's grunts as Remus helped him up.

"It's the wand that chooses the wizard, you know. The core of this wand came from a phoenix that gave one other feather. Just one other. It's curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother..." Ollvander reached up and brushed his hand gently across Harry's scarred forehead, "why, its brother gave you that scar."

James, Sirius, and Remus all gasped, but Harry only held his new wand protectively. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't the wand's fault that its brother had done such awful things. Harry didn't have a brother, but he had a cousin, and he'd hate to be judged on the way Dudley behaved.

"I think we can expect great things from you, Harry Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, but great."

"I think Ollivander's gone loopy in his old age," Sirius said after they had paid for Harry's wand and left the shop.

"He was always a bit loopy," James replied.

"What in the world was all that nonsense about 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things'?" Sirius asked, doing a perfect imitation of Ollivander's breathless delivery.

"I don't know. I thought we'd just established that he's a bit loopy." James responded.

"Can we go to the quidditch store? I want to look at the new Nimbus 2000s," Harry asked, hoping to change the subject. He didn't want to discuss Voldemort or his wand or his scar today. Today was a day for celebration.

"Sure, kiddo." James said, and they all tramped off. When they got to the store, Harry put his nose against the window trying to get as close as possible to the Nimbus 2000. He didn't have his own broomstick yet, but his dad let him ride his almost whenever he liked. They had talked about maybe getting him a Cleansweep after he started Hogwarts. He had high hopes of getting a broomstick for his birthday. When Harry had lost enough drool over the broomsticks that he was thirsty, he told his dad he was ready to go. They stopped into the leaky cauldron for some butterbeers and then made their way back to the Potter house for dinner.

"Sirius," Harry asked thoughtfully after dinner. "If I get into trouble in your class, will you punish me?" It was difficult for Harry to imagine Sirius punishing anyone, but especially not Harry.

Sirius thought for a moment before replying, "Yes, I suppose I'll have to." Fred and George Weasley had told Harry that Sirius was quite strict in class. He knew that Sirius's first year teaching had been a disaster. He had tried to be friends with the students and, as a result, had completely lost control of all his classes by Christmas. He tried to turn in his resignation over the holidays, but Dumbledore refused to accept it. He came back in January having learned his lesson and immediately started handing out detentions at the slightest provocation until the "little buggers", as he so often referred to his students, figured out not to misbehave in his classes anymore. After he got them back under control, he calmed a bit and, since then, he had developed a reputation as being strict but fair. He was almost universally loved and respected by the students, and he was often the teacher they would seek out when they needed a sympathetic ear or a piece of advice. Even the Slytherins liked him. Most of them, anyway. "But I'm sure you'll never get into trouble in my classes," Sirius continued. "You'll want to save all your pranks for McGonagall's class." Remus was caught in the middle of a sip of butterbeer and choked on it until it came out of his nose.

"You see, what did I tell you, Padfoot?" James asked, laughing. "Watching someone shoot liquid out of their nose is always funny."

Sirius was too busy laughing to answer. Remus glared at them both until he caught his breath enough to begin scolding.

"Sirius! You shouldn't tell him things like that! Harry, you most certainly will not want to misbehave in McGonagall's classes."

"Not if you want to live to tell about it." James added. Harry had never met McGonagall, but he knew that the marauders still seemed a bit afraid of her. Nearly all of their stories about their schooldays ended with McGonagall finding out what they had done and making them miserable. Harry was already a little frightened of her just by reputation. That would be the only advantage he could think of if he somehow didn't get into Gryffindor. He wouldn't have to have her as his head of house. Of course, if he did end up in Slytherin, he'd have Snivellus Snape, which he was sure would be much, much worse.

"You won't want to misbehave in anyone's classes, Harry." Remus said sternly.

"Then how will I ever have any fun?" Harry asked innocently. James snorted into his sleeve and Sirius laughed uproariously.

"That's the spirit, Pronglet!" He said loudly, clapping Harry on the back, "You've got big shoes to fill, you know. Hogwarts hasn't had any proper troublemakers since the marauders left. Fred and George Weasley have been doing their part, but I have high expectations for you."

"You're going to get him expelled!" Remus moaned.

"He's not going to get expelled." James said lightly. "They don't expel people for pulling pranks. We never got expelled did we?"

"We would have if they knew half the things we did." Remus shot back.

"Like what?" Harry asked expectantly.

"Don't expect us to give you ideas!" Remus said.

"I'll give you ideas, Pronglet. Just remind me next time killjoy here isn't around." Sirius said with a laugh.

Remus huffed loudly. "Honestly, am I the only person here who doesn't want him to spend all his spare time in detention?"

"I don't want to spend all my spare time in detention." Harry piped up.

"Good for you!" Remus said approvingly. "It's good to hear someone in this room has a good head on his shoulders."

"I'll just have to work at not getting caught," Harry said with a sly grin. Sirius and James recommenced their laughing. Remus only shook his head, exasperated.

"I think you're fighting a losing battle with this one, Moony." Sirius said.

"Harry, do listen a moment," James began, more seriously. "There's a fine line between having fun and being disruptive. Just make sure you stay off the being disruptive side of the line for the most part, and never misbehave in McGonagall's classes--"

"Or Snape's," Sirius cut in.

"Or Snape's," James agreed.

"Or mine," Sirius added.

"Would you kindly shut up and let me finish?" James said, turning to glare at Sirius. Sirius held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and James turned back to Harry.

"Anyway, you'll be fine, kiddo. You're going to have the time of your life. I'm a little jealous, actually. Sometimes I wish I could go back to Hogwarts."

"I hear the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is open," Sirius offered.

Harry's eyes grew wide at the thought of his father at Hogwarts, but James responded quickly. "You couldn't pay me enough to take that job. I'll take dark wizards over teenagers any day."

"Scared, Prongs?" Sirius asked, smiling.

"Of a bunch of teenagers?" James said. "Bloody terrified."


	5. Many Meetings

Harry's birthday came and went in a bluster of activity. He was too excited to sleep the night before he was supposed to turn eleven, and his father came in just after midnight with a small chocolate cake that said, "Happy Birthday, Harry!" in bright icing that changed color every few seconds. The two of them ate the cake together in Harry's bed. They had done this every year on his birthday for as long as he could remember. Only after the cake was gone and his father had told him how glad he was to have Harry in his life and gone to his own bed did Harry fall asleep. The next day, James threw Harry a joyous party. Sirius and Remus were there, as were the Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Parvati and Padma Patil. Even Hagrid stopped by to say hello. Harry's favorite present was the small mirror he received from his father. It was enchanted so that they could speak to one another through it whenever they liked. The day was marred only by the fact that Harry did not receive a broomstick. He thought about asking James about it, but then he remembered Dudley throwing temper tantrums over his presents and thought better of it. He wouldn't be allowed to take the broom to Hogwarts with him anyway.

The rest of the summer passed by much more quickly than Harry could have thought after such a boring beginning. Harry spent a week with Sirius at his seaside cottage in Wales and made many day trips to Ron Weasley's house. It seemed to him almost no time at all had gone by when he and his dad were driving to London to put him on the train to Hogwarts.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?" Harry asked again on the platform.

"Harry, you've got to stop worrying about this. If you're in Slytherin, you'll have just as much fun as if you're in any other house. There's nothing inherently wrong with Slytherin."

"Sirius says there is!" Harry whined.

"You know full well you can't believe anything Sirius says unless he's in the classroom." James said with a smile. "Don't forget to call him Professor Black when you're in class with him by the way."

"I won't," Harry said confidently. Sirius had brought that very thing up at the beginning of the summer, and they had been practicing.

"You'll still be you no matter what house you're in. Being in one house over another means very little in the grand scheme of things."

Harry nodded, but his anxiety did not quite ease. Next to him, the Weasleys were saying their goodbyes as well. Ginny was crying as she clung to her older brothers. She finally stopped when Fred and George promised to send her a Hogwarts toilet seat.

"That's not a bad idea," James said with a smile. "Why don't you send me one as well? I've been thinking it was about time to redecorate in the dining room."

"I'll see what I can do," Harry promised.

"Listen, I've been thinking. I'd like you to have this." James said, handing Harry a small squashy package wrapped in brightly colored paper. "Don't open it until you're in your dormitory tonight, all right?"

"I won't." Harry said. Just then the whistle sounded. Harry turned to look at the train and then turned back to his father, who enveloped Harry in a strong embrace.

"Use the mirror whenever you need me, and I'll see you in December. You're going to have the most wonderful time. Tell old McGonagall hello for me."

"I will," Harry said, pulling away and heading for the train. He hopped on and then stood by the door as the train began to move. He kept waving until the platform was out of sight, then he found a compartment with Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom, who was in considerable distress over having lost his new toad, Trevor. He left the compartment several times to search for it. Ron held tightly to his own pet, an old decrepit black cat called Shadow that had once belonged to his older brother Bill. Shadow didn't seem to do much. He mostly just slept. Neville had obviously tried to recruit others to help him search for his toad because at one point a girl with a very lot of bushy hair came in to ask Harry and Ron about it. She appeared just as Ron had pulled out his wand to try out a spell that Fred and George had given him that would turn Shadow yellow.

"Are you doing magic, let's see then?" Hermione asked in a very prim voice. "I know all the spells of course. I've read about them anyway."

Ron pointed his wand at Shadow and said the spell uncertainly. Harry could tell it wasn't a real spell and wasn't the least surprised when nothing happened. He was far too polite to say anything, though. Hermione, obviously, was not. "Are you sure that's a real spell? It's not very good," Hermione said huffily.

"I think it was a fine spell," Harry said loudly. "Look, the tip of his tail is lighter."

Hermione looked at Harry as though seeing him for the first time. Harry's heart fell as he saw the flicker of recognition cross her face. "Are you..." she asked.

"Stubby Boardman," Harry said, grinning broadly and sticking out a hand. "Pleased to meet you." Ron laughed so hard that Shadow woke up and leapt off his lap with an angry "mrow!"

"You're Harry Potter!" She exclaimed. "I can see your scar and everything. I've read all about you. You're the one who defeated You-Know-Who!"

"You mean Voldemort?" Harry asked. Hermione squeaked and Ron looked uncomfortable.

"You're not supposed to say his name," Hermione whispered bossily.

"Why not? Voldemort's dead. It's not like Voledmort's going to come and haunt me just because I've said 'Voldemort'. My dad says it's stupid to be scared to say 'Voldemort'." Hermione's squeaks increased every time Harry said the name.

"Would you stop that, mate?" Ron said uncomfortably.

"Fine, but I still think it's silly." Harry said flippantly.

Hermione took off in a huff, but she obviously told everyone where to find Harry Potter because they had hardly any peace after that. "She was probably just glad she knew something everyone else didn't for a change," Ron said angrily during a break between visits from curious onlookers. Finally Fred and George came by and stood outside the compartment telling people not to go in because Harry Potter was in there and he'd been brain-addled by You-Know-Who's curse and was liable to start hexing people at random if he got too excited. Once the news had spread through the train, Fred and George joined Ron and Harry in the compartment.

"Thanks," Harry said, relieved, "but did you have to tell them I'm brain-addled? I don't need a reputation like that."

"They'll figure out you're not soon enough," Fred said reassuringly.

"And if they don't, you'll have a perfect excuse for hexing Slytherins!" George added cheerfully. Harry was quiet. He did not share his fears that he might end up in Slytherin himself. Just then, the pale boy from the robes shop came by with two larger boys flanking him.

"Haven't you heard he's brain-addled?" Fred said loudly.

"Then what are you doing with him?" The blond-boy drawled.

"He won't attack us," George said. "He likes us. You, on the other hand..."

"I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy said haughtily turning away from Fred and George. "And this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," he added as an afterthought, indicating the two boys on either side of him. Goyle was, if possible, even bigger and stupider-looking than Dudley. "We've decided to invite you to our compartment."

"He doesn't want to go," Ron said, "especially not with a Malfoy."

Draco gave him a sneering look. "I don't need anyone to tell me who you are. Second-hand robes, red hair. You must be a Weasley. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair and more children than they can afford--" Draco fell over backward as Fred and George both hit him with a hex. They hit Crabbe and Goyle, too, just for good measure, then they dragged them out of the compartment, being sure to tread on them as they did so. They shut the door behind them when they had finished.

"Why in the world would Malfoy think I'd want to be friends with him?" Harry asked.

"You know those old wizard families," George said dismissively. "They're all so loony they can't think straight. Come on, Fred, I hear Lee Jordan's got a taranatula and I think I'd like to have another walk on Malfoy's face." Fred and George got up and left the compartment unceremoniously just as a friendly witch arrived with a sweet cart. She revived Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, much to Harry's dismay, and, after assuring they were not hurt, let them go back to their compartment.

"You'll pay for that Potter," Draco said threateningly as they left.

"_So much for escaping bullies_," Harry thought to himself with a sigh. "You want anything?" Harry asked Ron as he got up to inspect the sweet cart.

"No, my mum's packed me a sandwich," Ron said, pulling a squashed bag out of his pocket. "Ugh, corned beef. She always forgets I don't like that."

Harry bought a handful of everything and came back to share his loot with Ron. The sandwich lay forgotten as the boys tucked into the chocolate frogs. Harry opened his half of the frogs quickly, looking for cards. He didn't find any new ones, but there were two Dumbledores. Harry had seen them before - Dumbledore was very popular on chocolate frog cards and Harry reckoned he had gotten his card about a million times - but now that he was going to Hogwarts he found he wanted to look a little more closely. "Albus Dumbledore," the card read. "Currently Head master of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling." Harry stared at the picture until Dumbledore wandered off, and he realized Ron had been calling his name.

"What were you staring at?" Ron asked, his mouth full of licorice wands.

"Just Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Oh, yeah, I got about a hundred of him," Ron commented, his mouth full of cauldron cakes.

Just then, Hermione reappeared.

"What do you want?" Ron asked, his mouth full of pumpkin pasties.

"Do you always talk with your mouth full?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Ron answered, his mouth full of fizzing whizzbees.

"Lovely," Hermione said, turning away. "I came to ask you if you're really brain-addled."

"Course he is," Ron answered, his mouth full of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, which he quickly spat onto the floor after getting a curdled milk. Hermione looked at him like she thought he was the brain-addled one and left the compartment, telling them over he shoulder that they had almost arrived and they'd best get their robes on. They did so quickly, being careful to avoid the curdled milk bean on the floor and stuck their heads out of the compartment just as the train was grinding to a halt.

"Firs' years! Firs years this way!" Hagrid yelled. Harry and Ron climbed off the train and took off after them. "All righ', Harry," Hagrid greeted him as soon as he noticed Harry and Ron bobbing along behind. They followed Hagrid into small boats. Ron quickly motioned for Neville to come join their boat and made a face when Hermione jumped in as well. The boats took off without any prodding and all the first years looked expectantly across the lake for their first glimpse of Hogwarts. The castle was nestled next to a large lake and sitting on a hill. Harry, who had seen it before, always thought it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Looking at it now across the lake as the lights inside it glimmered and winked, he felt overwhelmed but happy.

Professor McGonagall greeted them as they stepped off the boat. She looked every bit as stern and severe as Harry had always imagined her. He silently vowed never to get on her bad side as he lined up with the other nervous-looking first years. "Did your dad tell you what we have to do?" Ron whispered.

"He would only say not to worry about it. Sirius said we have to face down a dragon. Then Remus told me all we have to do is wear a hat."

"A hat?" Ron questioned. "Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"Remus always tells the truth."

"I'm going to kill Fred and George. They had me convinced we'd have to wrestle a mountain troll."

Harry tried in vain to make his hair lie flat as he followed the gaggle of first years into the Great Hall. Harry looked up at the top table and met eyes with Sirius who gave him a broad smile and a wave. Harry waved back nervously as McGonagall placed a dirty-looking pointed hat on a stool at the front of the hall.

"My mum says we've got to pull a rabbit out of it," someone whispered.

The Hall grew quiet as a wide rip near the brim of the hat opened and it began to sing. When it had finished, McGongall unrolled a large parchment and began to call names. "Abbot, Hannah!"

Abbot, Hannah walked forward looking very much as though she didn't want to be first. At a little prompting from McGonagall, she sat on the stool and McGonagall put the hat on her head. "HUFFLEPUFF!" It yelled. Looking relieved, Abbot, Hannah went to join her new housemates, who were cheering loudly.

"Granger, Hermione became a Gryffindor just after Goyle, Gregory became a Slytherin. The hat barely touched Malfoy's head before it declared him a Slytherin. Harry began to get nervous. M wasn't that much before P. Finally, Patil, Padma became a Ravenclaw and Patil, Parvati became a Gryffindor. Then McGonagall called him. He was so nervous that blood was pounding in his ears, and it sounded as though her voice were coming from somewhere very far away. For a moment, he couldn't remember how to make his legs work, but then Ron gave him a helpful push and he staggered forward. The whole hall had gotten quiet to watch him. He could hear furious whispers. Some of the more indiscreet students in the back were standing on the benches to get a better look. Harry blushed furiously. He was aware that he was famous, but as far as he was concerned there was not much to it; he couldn't remember it anyway. His dad had tried very hard to keep him sheltered from his celebrity as much as possible, but at least one or two people recognized him nearly every time he went to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. The Potters had learned to make a quick exit whenever that happened because if they didn't, they would soon be surrounded. Harry had already learned the hard way twice to just turn around and walk the other way whenever he saw Dedalus Diggle heading his way.

Harry sat nervously on the stool and McGonagall put the hat on his head. It fell right over his eyes. "Interesting," a little reedy voice buzzed inside his head. "I see a lot of courage and a thirst to prove yourself."

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," Harry thought furiously.

"Not Slytherin? You could be great, you know. It's all here inside your head."

"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," Harry continued the chant in his mind.

"Well, if you're sure, better be GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word had been shouted to the entire hall. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the Gryffindors erupt. He heard a raw-throated joyous whoop that he recognized as belonging to Sirius. Harry trotted off to join Fred and George Weasley at the Gryffindor table feeling as if nothing in the world could go wrong for him now. Harry joined in the clapping for and shouting for Ron when he was sorted into Gryffindor and came to sit next to Harry looking relieved. Finally, Zabini, Blaise became a Slytherin and McGonagall took the hat and the stool out of the hall. Dumbledore stood to say a few words and then the tables began to grown under the weight of the food that suddenly appeared on them.

Harry ate hungrily and, when he had had his fill, he sneaked a look up at the staff table. He wanted to see if he could figure out which teacher was Severus Snape. It didn't take long for him to spot an unpleasant-looking man chatting with a teacher in a large purple turban. As he stared wondering if that was him, the man caught his eye and glared. Just then, a tremor of pain shot through his scar. He winced and put his hand on his head.

"All right, Harry?" Percy Weasley asked, looking concerned.

"Fine," Harry said quickly. "Is that Severus Snape?" Harry asked, pointing. Snape had returned his attentions to the man in the turban who looked most unhappy to be caught in the conversation.

"You know him?" Percy asked.

"No, but I've heard of him," Harry said.

"He's foul. That's what everyone says," Ron offered, his mouth full of treacle tart. "Even Bill doesn't like him."

"He's strict," Percy said, looking horrified that his little brother had just dared to insult a teacher.

Just then Dumbledore stood up and raised his hands for silence. The Hall quieted at once. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" He said excitedly. He quickly made a few announcements about rules and banned products, finally finishing with a warning that anyone who did not want to die a gruesome death should stay out of the third floor left-hand corridor.

"Is he joking?" Harry asked.

"Must not be," Percy answered. "Usually he at least gives us reasons why we can't go somewhere. Like the Forbidden Forest. There are all sorts of things in there. I would have thought he would have at least told the prefects."

After they had been dismissed, Percy led them to the Gryffindor Common Room, high in a seventh-floor tower. As soon as Harry got settled, he opened the squashy package his dad had given him in London. It was a silvery cloak that Harry recognized as his father's invisibility cloak. As he threw the wrapping paper on his bed, a note written in James's familiar messy scrawl fell out. Harry grabbed the note and read it. "Harry, this cloak belonged to my father, and he gave it to me my first year at Hogwarts. The time has come for it to be passed on to you. Put it to good use, just promise me you'll use it to scare the pants off Sirius at least once. Love, Dad."

Harry smiled and put the cloak on. He had worn it only once before, when he was very small and was trying on his father's clothes. It was slightly disconcerting not being able to see his feet, but his brain had already begun to fill with thoughts of all the things he could do with this cloak. He put it carefully in his trunk and fished out his mirror. He couldn't wait to tell his dad that he was in Gryffindor.


	6. Offers and Obligations

Harry originally planned to give himself some time to get used to Hogwarts before he started causing too much trouble, but Hogwarts had other plans for him. His very first class on his very first day was potions with Severus Snape and the Slytherins. It was a brutal combination, and Harry soon realized that Snape was every bit as cruel and the marauders had always said he was. He stood in front of the class glowering at them. His eyes lingered long enough on Harry to make him squirm uncomfortably. "Ah yes," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Even so everyone caught every word. "Harry Potter, our new celebrity."

Harry dropped his eyes and willed himself to turn invisible as all eyes turned to stare at him.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." There was the briefest of silence before he spoke again. "Potter!" he snapped. Harry jerked his head up. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Hermione's had shot into the air, but Snape ignored her.

"I don't know," Harry said uncertainly.

"Tut, tut, clearly fame isn't everything." Snape sneered. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione began waving her arm in the air excitedly. Snape continued to ignore her.

"I don't know," Harry repeated with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming to class, eh, Potter?"

Harry stared resolutely at the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Draco Malfoy smiling.

"Tell me this, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" By this time, Hermione had raised her hand so high in the air she was on her feet, using her left hand to support her right arm as she flailed it about. She was also making small grunting sounds.

"I don't know, Professor," Harry snapped, "But I think Hermione does. Why don't you try her?"

Ron snorted into his book.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You may just be the first person in the history of this school to earn detention in his very first class. Be in my office tomorrow evening at seven."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Ron jabbed him in the ribs and he thought better of it.

"For your information Potter," Snape said angrily, "Asphodel and Wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons. As for Monkshood and Wolfbane, they are the same plant which also goes by the name of Aconite. Well, why aren't you all copying this down?" There was a flurry of activity as everyone groped for quills and parchment and began dutifully taking notes. Harry found it difficult to work under Snape's constant glare. This was not helped by the fact that Snape took points from him every time anything went wrong, even when he had had nothing to do with it, like when Neville, who was seated three rows away from him, exploded a cauldron.

The rest of the day wasn't much better. After Potions, he got on the wrong side of Filch when he and Ron tried to force their way through what they thought was the corridor to Transfiguration but turned out to be the forbidden third-floor corridor. Then Harry was so distracted once he finally got to Transfiguration that McGonagall kept him after class to lecture him on attentiveness. That night, he fell into bed exhausted and overwhelmed. Hogwarts wasn't turning out to be anything like he thought it would be. He reminded himself that he had his first class with Sirius in the morning and hoped his second day would be better than his first.

Astronomy with Sirius the next day turned out to be much more pleasant than either Potions or Transfiguration had been. Sirius was so dynamic that Harry felt he had just sat down when it was already time to go. He was also obviously very popular with all the girls in the class, who stared, starry-eyed, at him and sighed whenever he called on them. All except Hermione, who showed off by answering every question he asked, even when he called on someone else. When it was time to go, Sirius stood by the door cheerfully telling everyone to enjoy the rest of their day. When Harry walked by, he grabbed the back of Harry's robes and pulled him backward back into the classroom. "Not so fast, you." He kept a hold on the back of Harry's robes, forcing Harry to stand in front of him, until everyone was out of the classroom. Then he put one hand under Harry's chin and the other on top of Harry's head forced his head back gently until Harry was staring at Sirius's upside-down facing looking down on him. "How are things going, Pronglet? Going well?" He asked. He forced Harry to nod.

"Yes," Harry said, his voice sounding strained with his head bent back.

"What's this I hear about you getting detention in your very first class?" Sirius asked sternly. "Didn't I warn you not to misbehave in Snape's class?" Sirius took his hand off Harry's chin, keeping a hold of Harry's hair, and put his finger just below Harry's bottom lip. He moved his finger up and down so that Harry's mouth opened and closed in rhythm as he said in a falsetto voice, "Oh, yes, Sirius, most wise among wizards. Oh how I wish I had heeded your advice. I promise I'll always listen to you from now on." Sirius let go of him suddenly, and Harry spun to face him, giggling.

"How did you know I had detention?" he asked.

"I know everything, Pronglet. And besides, as soon as class was over yesterday, Snape came charging up here to tell me all about what a colossal prat you are, and I couldn't get rid of him for nearly half an hour. For a moment, I was afraid he'd never leave and that I'd have to pitch a tent up here for him."

"I didn't even do anything." Harry said. "Well, not really. He just doesn't like me."

"He doesn't like anyone, much. And he has a very special hatred for your father. Just try to keep your head down in his classes, and don't attract too much attention to yourself."

"Are you going to tell my dad about the detention?" Harry asked.

"Of course not. Fathers have no business knowing what their sons are getting up to at school. It's healthy for them to be kept in the dark. Although, he might just be proud of you when he finds out you got it for being cheeky to Snape. Now you had better get to your next class before you get another detention for being tardy. And do try to behave yourself. You don't want to get a reputation as a troublemaker too soon. You've already somehow managed to get one for being brain-addled. I've had at least fifty questions about it, and I'm not even supposed to be the expert on Dark Arts. I can only imagine what it must be like for Quirrel."

Harry sighed. He was going to kill Fred and George.

* * *

Things went on in the castle. Harry settled quickly into his new schedule, and it didn't take the Gryffindors long to figure out that he wasn't really brain-addled, although he did occasionally find great joy in trying to convince the Slytherins of it. Eventually, the day came that a notice went up on the house bulletin boards about flying lessons. Harry was very disappointed to learn that Gryffindor's lessons would be with Slytherin. Even so, he couldn't wait to get into the air. Draco Malfoy had been telling anyone who would listen, and a few people who wouldn't, all about his aerial exploits for weeks. Ron reckoned he'd probably never actually been on a broom in his life. The day their lesson was to begin, Harry and Ron talked excitedly at breakfast about quidditch and flying tricks. Neville Longbottom, who was quite clumsy, was nervous about flying and Harry and Ron tried their best to reassure him. When the mail came that day, Harry had a package from him father that was full of sugar quills and dungbombs. He shared his loot generously with his friends. Neville had a package from his grandmother that contained a small ball. "It's a remembrall," Neville told them, reading the note that had come with it. "If it turns red that means I've forgotten something." As they watched, it turned red. "Oh, bother," Neville said.

"Don't worry, Neville," Harry told him encouragingly. "If it's important, you'll remember it." Neville shrugged.

Finally, the time came for their lesson and Harry and Ron were pushing Neville out of the castle and onto the grounds. Madame Hooch was a stern witch with hawk-like yellow eyes. She had the school brooms all set out for them when they arrived and began lecturing them immediately on broomstick safety. Finally, when she had nearly sucked all the fun out of the lesson, she let them come near the brooms. "Step to the left of the brooms and say 'up' in a firm, clear voice." The students did as they were told. Harry's broom leapt into his hand the second he told it to, but as he looked around he realized it was one of the only ones that did. Ron's turned over lazily, and Hermione's, Harry was pleased to note, wasn't listening to her at all. Malfoy seemed to be the only other person who could make a broom obey. After everyone had managed to get a good hold of the broom, Madame Hooch taught them how to mount and told them to kick off from the ground on her order and hover for a few seconds before coming back down. Neville was so nervous he kicked off too soon and then couldn't figure out how to get down again. He finally fell with a sickening crunch and started to cry. Madame Hooch was at his side in an instant. "Oh dear, a broken wrist," she said. "Come on, up you get." She helped him to his feet. "I'm going to take him to the hospital wing. No one is to so much as touch a broom while I'm gone, or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'quidditch'," she warned them. After she was gone, Harry saw Neville had dropped his remembrall and went to fetch it. Draco Malfoy got there first.

"Give that back, Malfoy. That's Neville's." Harry said angrily.

"Come and get it," Draco said, tossing it in the air and catching it deftly. Then he mounted his broom and took off. Harry climbed on his own broom.

"What are you doing?" Hermione Granger hissed. "You're going to get expelled."

"Or lose points!" Ron added. Harry ignored them and kicked off into the air. Flying had always been one of his favorite things. When he was only a baby, Sirius bought him a toy broomstick that hovered a foot or so off the ground, and he used to zoom all over the house on it, knocking things down. When they were living with Sirius, Sirius would purposely put things he didn't like in Harry's way just so he could have the fun of watching Harry break them. Harry still remembered the day the broom broke and how he had cried until Sirius appeared with another, bigger, one. When he was seven, he had decided he was plenty big enough to ride a real broomstick, thank you very much, and had stolen his father's to try it out. He thought it may have been the most fun he'd ever had until he got home to find that his dad and Remus and Sirius had all been scared to death not knowing what had happened to him. The escapade had earned him a rare spanking from his father, and he had never gone on a broomstick without permission again until this moment. Harry felt a twinge of guilt at the memory. He wasn't entirely sure if the remembrall was worth the risk of a spanking, but he thought it was high time someone stood up to Malfoy and no one else seemed to be willing to do it. He couldn't decide if his dad would want him doing this or not. On the one hand, he was defending his friend, and James valued friendship and loyalty very highly. On the other hand, Harry had to admit that it was a little dangerous. Even when James let him get on a broomstick, he wasn't usually allowed to go so high and he always had to be closely supervised, just so his father could catch him if he fell. Harry reminded himself quickly that his dad wasn't here and, even if he were here, he'd said Harry was getting to be too old for spanking, and that was months ago when Harry was only ten. He was eleven now, and that had to mean something. Eleven was much, much older than ten. Surely he was safe from the threat of a spanking. There was the small issue of possible expulsion, but Harry suspected Madame Hooch was bluffing. Surely they wouldn't expel a chap over this. Even so, someone had to stand up to Malfoy. He'd just have to get Neville's remembrall quickly and land again before she got back. No one would be any the wiser.

Harry chased after Malfoy, and Malfoy took off. Finally realizing that Harry was the better flyer, Malfoy sneered, "Here, Potter, catch!" and threw the remembrall. Harry raced after it, catching it gently a moment before it hit the ground. Then he landed himself and got off his broom, feeling on top of the world. He'd gotten the remembrall back, and he hadn't been caught.

"Harry Potter!" Harry's heart sank as he heard his name. It sank even more when he turned to see who had spoken and found himself face to face with Professor McGonagall. "Come with me," she said sternly. Wishing very much that he had his invisibility cloak and could just put it on and disappear, Harry followed her, hanging his head. Part of him still tried very much to cling to the hope that he wouldn't be expelled, but the longer he followed McGonagall, the dimmer that hope became. What would his dad say when he found out Harry had been expelled? He could already see the look of disappointment on James's face. Would they snap his wand? He held it protectively. Harry was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost ran into McGonagall when she finally stopped walking. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that were not at Dumbledore's office, but rather in the corridor outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "Professor Quirrel, may I borrow Wood for a moment?" McGonagall asked, sticking her head into the classroom. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Was Wood a cane? He'd heard his dad and Sirius talk about McGonagall's considerable skill with a cane, but he thought it had been banned. Well, he decided, being caned was better than being expelled. He would take it stoically if that was what she had in store for him. But Wood turned out to be a student, a fifth-year Gryffindor student, to be exact. "Oliver Wood, Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Oliver Wood," McGonagall said quickly. Feeling very confused, Harry held out his hand for Wood to shake. "Wood, I've found you a seeker. Potter here caught this--" she held out the remembrall "--and then pulled out of a straight dive not two feet from the ground." Wood looked Harry up and down as though sizing him up.

"He's certainly got the build for a seeker. We'll have to get him a broom. A Nimbus 2000 or maybe a Cleansweep 7."

"I'll talk to Dumbledore about waiving the first-year requirement in his case. Oh, I do hope we'll win this year. Professor Snape has been unbearable in staff meetings."

It took a while for Harry's breathing to return to normal once he figured out that he wasn't going to be beaten or expelled or, indeed, punished at all. "But Potter," McGonagall said sternly after Wood had been sent back to class, "Don't think this gives you permission to disregard your teachers' instructions in the future. Quidditch players are held to very high standards, and I expect you to behave yourself, or I might just change my mind about punishing you." Then she marched off, her heels clicking noisily on the floor, leaving Harry standing alone in the corridor. Not sure what to do next, he wandered back to Gryffindor tower to tell his dad what had happened and wait for dinner.

At dinner, he told Ron about his encounter with McGonagall and Ron seemed as surprised as he was. Fred and George were overjoyed. "Wood's just told us," Fred said.

"But it's supposed to be a secret, so don't go running your mouth, Ron." George said. Ron made a rude gesture just as Malfoy sauntered over, Crabbe and Goyle on his heels.

"Enjoying a last meal, Potter?" He asked.

"No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't punished at all," Harry told him.

"You're lying," Malfoy said. "There's no way McGonagall let you off."

"Well, she did," Harry said, "Now if you'll excuse me, there are pleasant people here that I'd much rather be talking to." Harry turned and began to chat with Neville Longbottom, who was seated nearby.

"Neville Longbottom, pleasant to talk to? If brains were gold, he'd be poorer than a Weasley," Malfoy spat.

"And yet, he's smarter than you," Harry said as Ron, Fred, and George leapt to their feet.

"Those are some strong words for someone who has to have his friends backing him up," Malfoy said through clenched teeth.

"Hark who's talking," Harry replied, getting to his feet as well. "I never notice you going anywhere without your goons."

"You dare to insult me, Potter? Care to put your skill to the test? I challenge you to a duel."

"Fine," Harry said, "Ron's my second. Who's yours."

"Crabbe," Malfoy said.

"Where and when?" Harry asked.

"Tonight at midnight in the trophy room."

"I'll be there," Harry said in what he hoped was a breezy tone.

Neville squeaked, looking at something behind Harry. Harry was relieved to discover it was Sirius.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing, Professor Black," Malfoy simpered. "We were only coming by for a visit."

"And now you've had your visit and should go back to your table," Sirius said sternly. Malfoy sloped away, glaring at Harry, and Sirius patted Harry on the shoulder before continuing on to the staff table. Harry made a mental note to thank Sirius later.

"You can't duel with him" Hermione said. "You'll get into trouble."

"I don't care," Harry said. "Someone has to teach him a lesson."

"You'll get Gryffindor into trouble!" She insisted.

"Would you shut it for two seconds?" Ron snapped.

Hermione glared at him but fell silent. Harry stared stonily at his plate. Suddenly, he wasn't feeling very hungry.


	7. Midnight and Mayhem

Harry and Ron waited impatiently for midnight to come around. Hermione kept up a steady stream of warnings, so they went to bed early just to get away from her. Then they sat on the floor of their dormitory playing exploding snap until the others began to come to bed. After that, they lay silently in their beds waiting for the time to come. At twenty minutes until midnight, they got up and dressed silently. Harry fished his cloak out of his trunk just in case. He was glad to finally have an excuse to try it out. Maybe after their duel was done, he'd sneak up to the Astronomy tower and do something to Sirius. The only reason he hadn't already was that he was having trouble thinking of something wicked enough.

Harry and Ron tiptoed down the stairs and were almost to the portrait hole when they heard someone say, "Are you really going?" They turned to see Hermione sitting in a squashy chair by the fireplace, looking very prim.

"Yes, we are," Harry told her. "Someone has to do something about Malfoy. I had a bully in my old school, and I've had quite enough of it."

"Why don't you just stay out of it?" Ron snapped. "It's not your business."

"It's my business if you insist on losing points for Gryffindor," she snapped back, following them out of the portrait hole to continue scolding. When they got out, Harry nearly tripped over Neville lying next to the portrait.

"I forgot the password," he said sleepily. Harry gave him a hand up.

"It's 'cornish pixie'," Hermione told him. "Come on, let's go back in before these two get us expelled." Then they all turned back to the portrait to find it empty. The Pink Lady had gone off for a midnight meeting, leaving them all stranded in the hallway. "We're done for! We'll be caught for sure!" Hermione squeaked, pulling at her hair.

"You worry too much," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Scared you're going to get detention? What's the worst that can happen?"

"I'm coming with you," Neville announced.

"Fine, the more witnesses when I trounce Malfoy, the better," Harry said.

"You can't leave me here," Hermione quaked. "What if I get caught?"

"Then tell whoever caught you that you forgot the password. They'll believe you on account of you being so bloody perfect all the time." Ron said.

"I'm not perfect." She snapped.

"If you're coming, come on. If you're staying, shut up." Harry said impatiently. "We don't want to be late."

The four of them took off carefully. Harry had planned to put the cloak over himself and Ron, but he wasn't sure all four of them could fit, so he just held it in case of emergency. He would have gladly let Neville underneath as well, but he thought Hermione might be the type to crack under the strain and turn them all in if she were afraid of getting caught. Honestly, girls had no head for this sort of thing. Except for Ginny Weasley. She always seemed to keep a cool head in a crisis, but Harry suspected she had been carefully coached by Fred and George. If the worst came to the worst, he decided he'd give the cloak to the other three and take the fall himself, but he saw no reason why it had to come to that so long as they were careful. They got to the trophy room two minutes early. Malfoy and Crabbe were nowhere to be seen, so they waited. It wasn't long before they heard footsteps but, rather than Malfoy and Crabbe, it turned out to be the caretaker, Argus Filch, and his horrible cat Mrs. Norris. Malfoy had set them up. "Run," Harry whispered urgently, and the four took off as quietly as they could, Filch and Mrs. Norris in hot pursuit. Harry knew better than to run straight back to Gryffindor tower. Then Filch would know exactly who had been out of bed, and it wouldn't be at all difficult to pinpoint Harry and his friends as the culprits. Instead, Harry led them around the castle, but he got turned around in the dark and they ended up trapped in a corridor he didn't recognize. He turned to lead them back out again just in time to see the light of Filch's lantern bobbing down the end of the corridor.

"We've got them now, my pet," the heard Filch telling Mrs. Norris.

Harry was just getting ready to throw his cloak over Ron, Hermione, and Neville when Hermione took out her wand and pointed at a locked door on their left. "Alohamora!" she said, and the door swung open.

"Good thinking," Harry whispered, wondering why he hadn't thought of it first. They all hurried through the door and shut it behind them quietly. Then they placed their ears to the door to find out if they were about to be caught. When they were sure Filch was gone, Harry turned in relief to Neville, who was so scared he was stuttering and staring off into space. Harry looked at what Neville was staring at and fought the urge to scream. It was a large black dog with three heads, each snarling and looking meaner than the last. Harry's eyes grew wide. A groan from Ron told him that he'd seen it, too. Neville was so frightened, he was frozen on the spot. Harry grabbed his arm and, deciding he'd far rather face a month of detentions than this ferocious-looking beast, he opened the door and pulled Neville out. Ron and Hermione were right on his heals. They didn't stop running until they were safely in their common room.

"Who keeps something like that locked up in a school?" Ron asked when they had all caught their breath. Neville moaned.

"Don't you boys ever pay attention to anything?" Hermione asked. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"I was a little busy trying not to get eaten to notice its feet," Ron said.

"It was standing on a trap door," Hermione informed them curtly. "It was obviously guarding something. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed before you three get any more ideas to get us killed or, worse, expelled." Then she turned on her heel and marched up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Do you reckon she gets on her own nerves?" Ron asked when she had gone.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Harry said. Neville was still so frightened he had to be helped up the stairs. Harry crawled into his bed. He was far too excited to sleep, but far too nervous to chance another trip out to play pranks on Sirius. That would have to wait for another day.

The next morning, Malfoy came over to gloat at breakfast and left in a huff after Harry called him a coward and informed him that they hadn't been caught the night before. Just then, the mail arrived. Harry looked up for his snowy owl, whom he had named Hedwig, and felt his heart soar when he saw her. His dad had been sending him weekly care packages full of sweets and jokes. He was beginning to get quite a collection, and his dad was careful to always send enough for him to share, which made him very popular amongst the other Gryffindor students. Fred and George had taken to displaying open jealousy. This package was long and thin. Hedwig dropped it in Harry's lap and then his dad's owl dropped a letter on top of it. Harry ripped into the letter first, which turned out to be a lucky thing.

"Harry, McGonagall has asked me to ask you not to open this in the Great Hall. It's a Nimbus 2000. I know you've had your eye on them. McGonagall tells me you're the youngest quidditch player in a century. I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am. I can't wait to come see your first game. Practice hard, and stop being cheeky to Snape. See you soon. Love, Dad."

Harry and Ron ran out of the Great Hall excitedly to open the package. As promised, it was a brand new Nimbus 2000. "You've got the world's coolest dad, Harry," Ron gushed.

"I know," Harry returned.

"What's that you've got there?" Malfoy's voice came behind them.

"None of your business, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"That's a broomstick! First years aren't allowed. You're going to be in trouble." Malfoy sneered.

Just then Sirius appeared. Harry couldn't decide if he was relieved or annoyed by this habit that Sirius seemed to have developed. On the one hand, he always appeared at very fortuitous times. On the other hand, Harry didn't much like the thought of Sirius following him around.

"What's going on, gents?" Sirius asked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor Black," Malfoy tattled.

"Yes, I know, isn't it exciting?" Sirius said with a smile. "Hey, let me see that." Harry handed it over. "A Nimbus 2000! Brilliant!"

"Sirius, are you following me?" Harry asked when Malfoy had gone off, scowling.

"Not purposely, but when I see you and Malfoy together, I can't resist coming to investigate. He's a bit of a prat, isn't he?"

"Are teachers allowed to call students prats?" Ron asked as Harry opened his mouth to inform Sirius that not only was Malfoy a prat, he was, quite possibly, the world's biggest prat and that all other prats looked downright pleasant in comparison.

"You'd be amazed the things we say about you when you're not around," Sirius said with a wink. "We have to be allowed to have a little fun. Only do us a favour and don't tell McGonagall I've told you." Then Sirius handed Harry his broomstick and returned to the Great Hall, whistling.

"What do you think they say about me?" Ron asked uncertainly.

"Probably that you're awfully gullible," Harry informed him, running off to take his broomstick to his dormitory.

"Hey! I don't even know what that means!" Ron called, running after him.

* * *

As Halloween approached, the level of excitement in the castle grew and grew. Ron and Harry had taken to sitting as far away from Hermione as possible in all their classes, but on the day of Halloween, they got to Charms late and had to sit next to her. They were learning Wingardium Leviosa, a levitating spell. Harry managed to make the feather they were supposed to be levitating flop off the desk on his first try, which he thought was quite good. Ron's feather stubbornly refused to move. He got more and more frustrated with it until finally he was waving his wand about like a madman.

"Honestly, you're going to put someone's eye out," Hermione said bossily . "It's swish and flick. Like this." She parroted the motion Professor Flitwick had shown them at the beginning of class. "And you're saying the incantation wrong. It's 'leviOsa', not 'levioSAR'."

"If you're so good, you do it then," Ron snapped. Hermione looked taken aback for a moment, but then she said the incantation and her feather lifted obediently off the desk. Professor Flitwick was so excited he gave Gryffindor five points. Ron didn't say anything, but the tips of his ears turned red.

"She's a nightmare, honestly," Ron said bitterly as they walked to their next class. "It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends." Just then Hermione pushed past him. "Do you think she heard me?" Ron asked.

"Maybe a little," Harry said. "You should go apologize." Ron and Harry chased after her, but she ran into a girl's bathroom. They waited around a few minutes, but she didn't come out, so they went ahead to their next class. Hermione never came. She didn't show up to their next class either, and Harry overheard Parvati Patil informing Lavender Brown that she'd been crying in the bathroom all day. She didn't even come out for the Halloween feast, and Harry had just about decided to go charging in after her, girl's bathroom or not, when a pale-faced Professor Quirrel cam running into the Great Hall.

"Troll in the dungeon!" He shouted. "There's a troll in the dungeon! Just thought you ought to know." Then he passed out cold.

The reaction was immediate, and Harry thought it probably would have been great fun to watch if he weren't so terrified. Everywhere he looked, students were leaping out of their seats and screaming their heads off. A few of them were in hysterics.

"STOP!" Dumbledore yelled. The Hall immediately quieted, except for the few hysterical students. "Prefects, lead your housemates back to your dormitories. I must ask all staff members to accompany me to the dungeons."

The staff all rose and hurried out the side door while the students all started toward their dormitories.

"Ron," Harry whispered as they trotted after Percy. "I've just thought of something. Hermione doesn't know about the troll. We have to tell her."

"Oh, all right," Ron whispered back, and they ducked into line with some Ravenclaws and then sneaked away to find Hermione. As they went, they saw Snape heading away from the crowd.

"Where do you reckon he's going?" Harry asked as they hurried through an empty corridor

"I don't know." Ron replied. "What's that awful smell?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone set off some dungbombs or something," Harry answered.

"Smells worse than dungbombs," Ron said back.

Just then they rounded a corner and saw the troll. It had its back to them and was going through a doorway.

"Quick, lock it in!" Harry said frantically. No sooner had they done so and turned to make their way back to the tower than they heard a scream. Then Harry realized with a sickening feeling that they had just locked the troll in with Hermione. They looked at one another a moment before charging into the bathroom. He troll was advancing on Hermione, who was screaming her head off. Throwing caution to the wind as only he could, Harry leapt on the troll's back in an attempt to distract it. The troll didn't seem to notice. It flicked at Harry as though he was a fly and continued to advance on Hermione. Harry lost his balance and gripped the troll harder to keep his hold. That was how he came to accidentally stick its wand up the troll's nose. Stupid as it was, the troll couldn't help but notice that, and it began flailing around trying to get Harry off its back. Finally, it managed to throw Harry hard to the floor. He lie there dazed for only a moment before he saw the troll's club coming toward him. He rolled out of the way and took refuge beneath a sink.

"Swish and flick," Hermione said.

Ron pointed his wand at the troll. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted. It took a moment for the troll to notice it no longer had its club. As it turned to see what had happened, Ron released the spell and the club dropped onto the troll's head with a satisfying thunk.

Harry crawled out from under the sink and retrieved his wand from the troll's nose. A few smelly grayish lumps were still clinging to it. "Ugh, troll bogeys!" he said, wiping his wand on the troll's loincloth. Then he gave Hermione a hand to help her up.

"Do you think it's dead?" Ron asked.

"No, just knocked out." Harry responded. "We'd best get out of here."

"I'm sorry about what I said," Ron told Hermione just as Sirius, McGonagall and Snape appeared in the bathroom. Sirius stared at the troll as though he might be sick.

Upon seeing Harry, Sirius reached out and grabbed him, pulling him close. Then he crossed both his arms protectively across Harry's chest. "What in the world? What were you thinking? How did... what did... how?" Sirius sputtered.

"Eloquent as always, Professor Black," Snape said softly. Harry glared at him.

"What are you doing here?" McGonagall asked.

Harry and Ron looked at one another, not sure what to say. Harry very much wished Sirius wasn't holding him so tightly. He would have at least liked to have the option of running away if that were to become necessary.

"It was my fault," Hermione said, surprising them all. "I went looking for the troll. I thought I could take care of it on my own. I've read all about them. Harry and Ron saved me. If it weren't for them, I'd be dead." Sirius's arms tightened around Harry's chest.

"What were you thinking, Miss Granger? I never would have expected this from you!" McGonagall scolded. "Ten points from Gryffindor." Hermione hung her head.

"As for you two!" McGonagall said, rounding on Harry and Ron, who had slowly moved closer to Harry as though he thought Harry could somehow protect him. "Ten points... will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck!" Then McGonagall left the bathroom. Snape was right behind her, glaring at Harry and Sirius.

"And here I thought you were above such petty displays of favoritism," Snape sneered on his way out the door. Harry noticed that he was walking with a limp.

Sirius was staring at the troll and breathing heavily. He held Harry so close that Harry could feel him heaving. Harry's heart sank. Sirius was furious; he just knew it. Any second now, the shouting would start. Sirius had only shouted at him once before, but he still remembered it vividly. Just knowing he'd managed to make Sirius angry enough to shout at all made him feel about three inches tall. Harry close his eyes and waited, but no one said anything, so Harry finally screwed up his courage to speak. "Sirius, are you all right?" Harry asked.

"What? Oh, yes, fine." Sirius said as though snapping out of a trance.

"What happened to Snape's leg?" Ron asked. "Did you notice he was limping?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Sirius replied.

"I hope it's really hurting him," Harry said.

"Watch it, Harry." Sirius said quietly. "He's still a teacher."

"Sorry," Harry whispered.

"Well, come on, you three." Sirius told them. "I think I could use a cup of tea, so I'm sure you could." With a hand on Harry's shoulder, he led the three of them up to the Astronomy tower where he fed them tea and biscuits and scolded them a bit, but then ruined the effect by roaring with laughter when Harry revealed he'd gotten troll bogeys on his wand. As they left Sirius's quarters to return to Gryffindor tower, the three of them found that their adventure together had turned them into friends.


	8. Fears and Fellowship

_Warning for mention of child abuse._

* * *

"I heard there was a troll at Hogwarts." James said the following Saturday. He was sitting with Remus and Sirius in front of Remus's fire.

"There was," Sirius replied.

"How did you fare with it?" Remus asked.

"I think I did better than I could have. I didn't wet myself or blub." Sirius told his friends. "I did almost sick up when I saw it, though. It was already out cold by then or else I probably would have. May have wet myself and blubbed as well. I don't know that I've ever been so scared in all my life."

"Remember when we did that boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts third year?" Remus asked. "When it got to be your turn, it became a troll and you just stood there screaming your head off."

"Don't remind me." Sirius said. "I don't think I've ever been so humiliated in all my life."

"Not even the time you were showing off for those sixth year girls and you fell off your broom?" James asked.

"Or the time you were bragging to everyone about levitating Filch and McGonagall came up behind you and pulled you away by the ear?" Remus added.

"Or what about the time--" James began.

"All right already!" Sirius said loudly. "So I've been humiliated plenty of times. Do you have to rub it in?"

"Yes," James said while Remus said, "Of course."

"Some friends you are." Sirius said with mock bitterness.

"Someone's got to keep you honest, Padfoot," James said, taking a sip of his butterbeer. "I bet Harry thought a troll in the school was a great adventure."

"In a manner of speaking," Sirius said cryptically.

"He wasn't scared, was he?" James asked, concerned.

"No," Sirius said. "After it was taken care of, I invited him and Ron and another of his friends, a girl called Hermione, to come have tea and biscuits with me. I told them it was to help calm them down, but really it was to help calm me down. Harry got me to laughing and I felt better. Even so I couldn't sleep that night." Sirius shuddered. "Ugh, trolls. I hate them. They're so... nasty. I've always been scared of them, for as long as I can remember. When I was small, my dad used to threaten to lock me in the basement with a bunch of trolls whenever I was bad, which was fairly often. Every time I got in trouble I thought this would be the one when he'd finally turn me over to the trolls. I'd get myself so worked up thinking about it that it was almost a relief when I just got another beating. I used to have the worst nightmares about them."

James and Remus had heard this story before, but they let Sirius tell it anyway. He didn't talk about his childhood often, and they both knew he had very, very few happy childhood memories. When they were younger, James used to think Sirius must be exaggerating the things his parents did because he simply couldn't imagine any parent being as cruel to their child as Orion and Walburga Black were to Sirius and his brother, Regulus. The older they got, the more he realized Sirius must be telling the truth. Then, the summer they were sixteen, Sirius had shown up on the Potters' doorstep, suitcase in hand. By then, his father wasn't beating him any more, but his parents had found many other, worse, ways to make their son miserable. After hearing the story of what Sirius's parents had done, the Potters invited him to stay with them for the rest of the summer. Things had been tense those first few days. Sirius was so upset he would barely eat or talk to anyone except James's mum. James thought he mustn't have heard more that two words out of Sirius that first week. He'd sit with the Potters and play wizard's chess or exploding snap or gobstones, but his heart wasn't in it. He'd only stare at the floor, and a few times James was sure he heard him crying at night. When that happened, James's mum would go in and sit with him until he calmed down. To this day, James had never mentioned that he knew about it. After about a week, Sirius had come out of it and got back to his normal fun-loving self. James was relieved, but he still felt angry on behalf of his friend whenever he thought about those days. He put a hand on Sirius's shoulder but said nothing. He had learned that when Sirius had decided to talk about his family, it was best to just let him do it until he had said all he needed to say.

"He used to have that awful troll leg trash can that he'd put on my head whenever he really wanted to humiliate me." Sirius continued. "It always smelled terrible in there. He'd tell me to breathe deep and think about how bad it would smell when he locked me in with the trolls. I don't think I'd ever been so happy in my life as I was the day I got to go to Hogwarts, unless it was the day Regulus got to come with me. I used to worry about him home alone with them. He's the only reason I didn't run away sooner. Someone had to protect him until he got old enough to do it himself. Not that he ever appreciated it. Idiot." Sirius shook his head as though he thought he could shake the darkness away. Then he took a sip of butterbeer and abruptly changed the subject. "Who's up for gobstones?"

"Who's this Hermione girl?" James asked after they had started their game. "Harry's talked a lot about her. I thought he didn't like her very much."

"I don't think he did at first, but they're friends now. She's a muggle-born. Her parents are... dentists, I think she said. Smart as a whip and a bit of a show-off, but I think she'll grow out of that. They usually do. I can barely get her to shut up in class. I think she might know more about Astronomy than I do."

"Harry reckons she fancies you." James teased.

"Who doesn't?" Remus asked.

Sirius pursed his lips. "Listen, mates, I can't help it that I'm gorgeous. I was born that way. It's not like I encourage them or anything."

"Harry's not, you know, interested in this girl or anything, is he?" James asked awkwardly.

"Harry's eleven, Prongs. I'm not even sure he knows girls exist." Sirius replied. "Girls are significantly faster on the uptake on those sorts of things. They start mooning over boys their first year, or second at the latest. Boys don't start mooning back until at least third year."

"I fancied Lily first year." James pointed out.

"Everyone fancied Lily first year," Remus countered.

"Did you fancy Lily?" James asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I never fancied anyone. I knew better. Actually, I take that back. There was this one girl our seventh year that I wouldn't have minded taking out, but I never did anything about it."

"I fancied Lily." Sirius said. "I had about decided to make a move on her myself when you finally got around to it. If you'd waited another week, I would have."

"She wouldn't have gone with you. She never liked you." James retorted.

"Liked me better than you. I always suspected you'd slipped her a love potion." Sirius responded. "She was way out of your league."

James smiled sadly. "I still miss her," he told his friends. "I hate Halloween."

"Oh, now don't go getting all melancholy on us." Sirius said.

"I'm not. I just miss her is all, and I've had more time to think about it lately, what with Harry being gone. I have to say, I'm a little jealous of you getting to see him every day. Kind of makes me wish I _had_ applied to be the new Defense Teacher."

"I don't see him every day." Sirius informed James. "Only most days. And you certainly shouldn't apply to teach. The last thing any boy needs is his father looking over his shoulder all the time. It's bad enough for him with me there. The other day, he actually accused me of following him."

"Were you?" Remus asked.

"Yes, but that's beside the point. Although I must admit it would be fun to have you there. We could cause all sorts of trouble and blame it on the students."

"You'd probably end up getting sacked," Remus said with a smile.

"Do you reckon he misses me?" James asked suddenly.

"Calls you whenever anything exciting happens, doesn't he?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, he's been calling me about once a week. More than that when he's got something specific to tell me. I can't wait to see him."

"The first match is soon. He's glad you're coming. He's told me you'll be there about fifteen times. He seems to think you and I never talk."

"Is he living up to my name?" James asked with a smile.

"I think he's still getting his bearings. I expect great things out of him, though. I've seen all the things you've been sending him. He's going to be a nightmare when he finally decides to let loose."

"What have you been sending him?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Everything I could think of," James replied matter-of-factly.

"You really shouldn't encourage him so much, Prongs," Remus told his friend. "If I know him, he'll cause plenty enough trouble on his own. The last thing you should be doing is helping him. He's going to end up spending the rest of his life in detention."

"I think he's doing okay on that front," Sirius said. "He hasn't had any more detentions since that first day, at least none that I've heard about. All the teachers really like him except Severus, but we expected that. Even old McGonagall's fond of him. If he plays his cards right and turns out to be halfway good at seeking, he has the potential to become one of her favorites. Not that it'll do him any good. She's harder on her favorites. That's the only way you can tell which ones they are. Poor kids."

"Is Severus still picking on him?" Remus asked.

"Of course, but Harry's learning how to deal with it. He's been putting Draco Malfoy in his place with fair regularity as well."

"Glad to hear it," James said. "Maybe I should turn him loose on Lucius as well."

"You should. He'd never know what hit him." Sirius said, smiling. "There's nothing in the world more destructive than an eleven-year-old boy. Even a mountain troll pales in comparison."

"Does anyone have any idea how the troll got into Hogwarts in the first place?" Remus asked.

"No, we don't." Sirius informed them. "Dumbledore reckons someone may have let it in as a prank. Not a very funny prank if you ask me. I reckon it must have wandered in from the Forbidden Forest, and most of the staff agree. I doubt it would have been smart enough to be lured in." Sirius shuddered again. "Trolls," he muttered.

"Trolls," James repeated.

"To the Pronglet," Sirius said, lifting his bottle of butterbeer.

"The Pronglet," James and Remus repeated, lifting their bottles as well.

"May he never become McGonagall's favorite." Sirius said with a smile as the three men took a drink and returned to their game.


	9. Quidditch and Quaking

Harry kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the day that Sirius told his father about the mountain troll. Harry couldn't decide if he thought James would be angry or not. On the one hand, the entire adventure had been an accident, at least for the most part, and James was always very understanding about accidents. On the other hand, James really had no sense of humour whatsoever where Harry's safety was concerned. Harry thought he was a bit overbearing about it, really. Harry supposed he could understand why. He had been attacked as a toddler by the most powerful dark wizard to ever live, after all, but that had been ten years ago, and Voldemort was dead. There was no reason for his dad to worry so much over him now. He knew he was very lucky to have the dad he did, all things considered. James was kind and fun-loving and patient. He winked at pranks and jokes that would have gotten Fred and George bawled out by their mum. He laughed at cheekiness that would have gotten Harry's ears boxed if he'd had a different father. He always seemed to know just what to say when Harry was sad or angry or scared. Harry really thought quite a lot of his father. That was why he was so worried about his father finding out about the troll and being angry. There was nothing in the world he hated more than disappointing James. Harry had always been strong-willed, but even so just a stern look or harsh word from James had usually been enough to make him cry when he was small. Once, when he was six, he had accidentally broken a vase that had belonged to his mum while throwing a quaffle in the house, which he wasn't supposed to do. Then, when James asked him what happened, Harry had lied and said he didn't know how the vase got broken. James hated lying more than anything else, and even as an adult Harry couldn't have said why he did it. The more James asked, the more Harry lied until finally Harry realized that he was caught, and he ran up to his room and hid under his bed. He could still remember how awful he felt - like he didn't deserve to be loved anymore. James came in after him and told him to come out, but Harry wouldn't. Then James asked him to please come out, but he still wouldn't. After that, James crawled under the bed with him and stroked his hair while he cried and told him that he loved Harry no matter what and that nothing he could ever do would change that. He said it over and over again until slowly Harry began to realize it was true, that his dad did still love him even though he had lied. Then he came out from under the bed and James picked him up and sat Harry in his lap and hugged him tight while Harry confessed what had really happened to the vase. James had told him that there was nothing he could ever do that was so bad he should be afraid to tell him, James, about it. He hadn't even punished Harry for lying; he said Harry had already punished himself enough. That was the last time Harry had ever told a lie to his father.

By the following Tuesday, the suspense was killing him, so he waited after class to speak to Sirius.

"Are you going to tell my dad about the mountain troll?"

"I wasn't planning to. Why? Do you think I should?" Sirius asked with a smile.

"No, no," Harry said quickly. "I was just, you know, wondering."

"I don't think there's much point in telling him. There's nothing he can do about it, and it'll just make him worry. You weren't hurt, and you're perfectly safe here, so why bother him? Maybe I'll tell him when you're older. He'll probably think it's a grand story after enough time has gone by that he doesn't have to fret over you anymore. Besides, I already told you, as far as I'm concerned, what you do here stays here. I don't know that I'm doing a very good job of it, but I'm trying to treat you like any other student as far as discipline is concerned. If you do something bad enough that I'd tell your father even if you were someone else, then I'll tell him. Otherwise, I don't see why he needs to know. Although I did sort of slip and tell him about your detention."

"You what? I thought you weren't going to!" Harry said. "Was he angry?"

"Not at you. Thought Snape was being a bit unfair, though."

"He was," Harry agreed. "Git."

Sirius looked as though he was trying not to smile. "You know, as your teacher I have to tell you not to talk about other professors that way, but as your godfather I have to admit I agree with you. Just do me a favour and make sure you don't say that in front of anyone else, or I'll have to do something about it, and I'd really rather not."

"I won't," Harry promised. He was still having a hard time imagining Sirius punishing him, but he had begun to see some of his strictness come out in class. He'd given a Ravenclaw boy detention last week for being cheeky and he'd taken points off Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil the week before for talking during his lecture. Harry hadn't had the heart to tell him that they had been discussing making him cards for his birthday, which was coming up soon. Sirius always rolled his eyes at all the girls mooning over him. He said he got a great kick out of it when he first started teaching, but now he just found it obnoxious, particularly when girls did what Lavender did, and started to cry loudly after he took points off her. Sirius made a good show of ignoring her in class, but he later admitted to Harry that he felt like an arse for making her cry. "Why? Girls cry all the time." Harry had said and Sirius had laughed.

"Listen, I'm having Hagrid round for tea tomorrow. Would you like to come? I know you're fond of him."

"I'd love to. Can I bring Ron and Hermione as well?" Harry asked. He was indeed fond of Hagrid and had been ever since he was small. He had always loved playing with the huge, wild man who seemed almost more child than adult.

"Sure," Sirius said with a smile. "Come at four o'clock."

"I will. See you, Sirius." Harry said as he bolted out the door and to his next class.

Hermione seemed not to be able to believe her luck at having befriended the godson of Professor Black. Harry even thought he heard her bragging about it to Lavender and Parvati the next afternoon as they came down from their dormitory. "I've brought you something," Hermione said as soon as she saw Harry. She handed him a book called _Quidditch Tactics_. "Ron told me you don't have this one, and I thought it might help you prepare for the game on Saturday."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at her. She was proving to be a good and loyal friend, and homework was already much easier now that she was willing to help him. As Harry made his way to the Astronomy Tower with Ron and Hermione, they ran into Professor Snape, still limping. They all stopped and gaped at him.

"What are you three up to?" Snape snapped.

"Nothing, sir," Harry said.

"What have you got there?" Snape asked menacingly.

"It's just a library book," Harry said, offering it up to show Snape.

"Library books are not to be taken from the library!" Snape sneered. "Five points from Gryffindor, I think." Then he snatched the book and limped away with it.

"He made that up!" Ron protested as soon as Snape was out of earshot.

"Do you think he'll take it back to the library?" Hermione asked. "It's checked out in my name!"

"_Leave it to her to worry about something like that at a time like this_," Harry thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "Don't worry. I'll get it back, and if I can't, I'll get Sirius to do it."

Hermione still seemed worried, but she accepted his answer and didn't say any more about it. Ron and Hermione agreed to wait on the stairs while Harry made his way alone to the staff room hoping to retrieve the book. When he got there, he knocked, but there was no answer, so he stuck his head inside. Snape and Filch were in there, Snape lifting his robes to reveal his bloodied leg while Filch checked his bandages. "How are you supposed to keep an eye on all three heads at once?" Snape asked before he turned and saw Harry. "What are you doing in here?" He shouted.

"I just came to get my book back," Harry said desperately. "Hermione wants to take it back to the Library."

"Get out of here," Snape said, picking up the book and throwing it at Harry's head. Harry blocked it with his satchel and then quickly picked it up from where it had fallen on the floor. He left the room to the sound of Snape's continued shouts of, "Get out!"

He caught up with Ron and Hermione on the staircase to the Astronomy tower. "I know how Snape hurt his leg," he told them. "He was trying to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween."

"Why would he do that?" Hermione asked.

"Obviously he was trying to get at whatever it was guarding," Ron said. "Do you reckon he was the one who let in the troll?"

Just then, Hagrid came up behind them. "All right, you three?" He asked. "Yeh look awfully worried about sommat."

Harry trusted Hagrid. He was also familiar with Hagrid's tendency to speak without thinking, which made him a perfect person to ask when a bloke wanted information that his father or godfather didn't seem too keen on giving him. With his father being an auror, sometimes things got very hectic or dangerous and James had to work overtime. When that happened, Harry would come spend time with Sirius at Hogwarts. During those times, Sirius often passed Harry off on Hagrid during classes. Harry loved these times because Hagrid could almost always be counted on to have some strange exciting animal in tow and he nearly always told Harry things he shouldn't have. So long as one kept things casual and didn't seem too eager for information, Hagrid could always be counted on to give it. "Did you know that there's a three-headed dog on the third floor?" Harry asked casually. Ron and Hermione both stopped dead in their tracks and Harry shot them both a look that he hoped said, "_Play along._"

"How did yeh know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked.

"Fluffy?" Ron said. "That thing has a name?"

"Course he has a name," Hagrid told them. "He's mine. I got him off a Greek chappie I met down at the pub. Then I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the--"

"Yes?" Hermione interrupted. Inwardly, Harry groaned. He knew she had just overplayed their hand. He wasn't a bit surprised when Hagrid clammed up.

"I shouldn'ta told yeh that. Just forget I said that. It's not yer business what Fluffy's guarding. That's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. I shouldn'ta told yeh that, either. So, quidditch Saturday!"

Harry let the subject drop and began discussing the upcoming quidditch match. They had almost arrived at Sirius's, and there would be plenty of time to question Hagrid later. He suspected it would best be done without Hermione.

The closer they got to Saturday, the more nervous Harry grew. He was so distracted in class on Friday that Sirius actually called him down and then kept him after class and threatened to turn him into a lavender gerbil if he didn't pay better attention. At least, Harry thought he had said a lavender gerbil. He hadn't really been listening. Saturday dawned with perfect weather for quidditch. Harry barely slept. He made himself stay in bed until after the sun rose and then he went downstairs. He wasn't a bit surprised to see the rest of the team already there, except for Fred and George, who alone of the team never seemed to get nervous.

"What if I forget how to fly?" Harry whispered to Katie Bell, a second-year and one of the chasers. Next to Fred and George, she was the one on the team who intimidated him the least.

"Then you'll fall of your broom and Wood will never forgive you," she whispered back. This did not make Harry feel better. When it was time for breakfast, the team ambled down the stairs and sat not eating as they waited for the game to start. Fred and George appeared eventually, looking well-rested and cheerful. Harry thought he might sick up as he watched them tuck in to their bacon and eggs as though nothing in the world was wrong. Finally, it was time to go to the pitch.

"Don't worry, Harry, you probably won't die," George said, clapping Harry on the back.

"No one's died in years," Fred added, "Though someone will disappear occasionally."

"But they always turn up in a century or two," George continued.

"Oi! Stop it, you two!" Angelina Johnson told them. She was a third year, like them, and one of the team's chasers. She was one of the few people besides their mother who seemed to be able to put the two of them in their place. They both fell silent, but the looks they kept shooting one another said clearly that they were not the slightest bit sorry.

When the whistle blew, Harry went out onto the pitch with the rest of the team, very much regretting the two bites of toast Hermione had finally nagged him into eating. He looked up at the crowd as soon as he got outside and tried to spot his father. Seeing him would make Harry feel much better, Harry was sure, but he couldn't make out any individuals except for Hagrid, and then only because Hagrid was so very large. At the sound of the whistle, Harry kicked off from the ground and felt his anxieties ease. When he got in the air and began circling, he easily spotted his father sitting with Sirius, Remus, Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. His dad was waving at him frantically with both arms, and Harry laughed and waved back before getting down to the business of looking for the snitch. He was almost unaware of what was going on with the rest of the game as he searched. Finally, he saw it, the tiniest flicker of gold. He eased into a dive and was just about to speed up when his broom gave a great lurch and nearly threw him off. No one seemed to have noticed what had happened. He regained his bearings and eased into a dive again when the broom lurched again. Then it began to buck like an angry horse, and it was everything Harry could do to hold on. Somewhere down below, someone cried out and then all eyes were on Harry, not that he noticed. He put everything he had into holding on to the misbehaving broomstick. He couldn't have said how long it went on, but just when he thought he couldn't possibly hold on much longer, the broomstick suddenly stopped jerking and straightened itself. Harry took a deep breath and began to dive. He wanted nothing so much as to be off this broomstick and on the ground. Then he saw the snitch on his left and he veered toward it. The broomstick obeyed him effortlessly. Whatever had gone wrong with it had clearly been righted. He let go of the broomstick and reached out for the snitch. He was coming in slightly too steep on the dive, so he put his feet on the broomstick and stood, reaching for the snitch with all his might. When the broomstick crashed, he tumbled off of it onto the ground. He had expected it to hurt, and so was prepared for for the immediate aches and pains as he somersaulted across the quidditch pitch. It wasn't until he stood that he realized the snitch had flown directly into his open mouth. He spat it out into his gloved hand and held it high for all to see. There was complete silence for the tiniest of moments, and then the stands erupted. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was safely on the ground and, more importantly, he had won the match for Gryffindor.


	10. Jinxes and Judgments

It took James a moment to begin breathing normally again after Harry landed. Watching his son crash and then somersault had taken at least a year off his life, he was sure. After he realized what was happening with Harry's broom, he had his wand out in an instant and was ready to cast arresto momentum if Harry were to fall. If he had been able to take his eyes off Harry for even a moment, he would have seen that Sirius, Remus, and teachers all across the quidditch pitch had their wands out as well with only two exceptions. Quirrel, the twitchy and often terrified Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was staring at Harry as though he might sick up at any moment, and Snape was glaring at Harry and muttering. Hermione, however, did see all that, and she put the pieces together.

As soon as Harry was on the ground, James ran down to the quidditch pitch as fast as he could. He kept having to stop and wait for the crowds of students, and he was halfway tempted to curse them out of the way, so desperate was he to get to his son. When he finally got to the spot where Harry had crashed, Harry had already gone off to change and celebrate with his team. McGonagall was there inspecting his broom.

"May I?" James asked.

"Be my guest," she said, handing it over.

"I think we should have this checked for curses." James said, dropping it on the ground. "UP!" He ordered and the broom leapt into his hand. "I'll take it back with me to the auror office. Harry can ride a school broom until I check this one out." Then, seeing the look on McGonagall's face, he added, "I promise I'll have it back before the next match! Honestly, do you really think quidditch is more important than a student's safety?"

The tiniest smile played at McGonagall's lips. "Of course not, and if you ever speak to me like that again, I'll put you in detention. I don't care if you are a hot shot auror." There was a small twinkle of amusement in her eyes that showed she was taking the mickey.

"Well then I suppose I'll have to be careful. Harry would never let me live it down."

McGonagall smiled and said, "Keep that broomstick as long as you need it, just do try to get it back soon." Then she turned and left.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione were meeting with Harry inside.

"I know what happened," Hermione whispered to them after Harry had changed out of his quidditch robes. "It was Snape."

"Snape?" Harry asked.

"Snape?" Ron repeated.

"Yes, Snape. He was jinxing your broom."

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Yes," she said with certainty. "I know about jinxes. I've read all about them. You have to maintain eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking. If I hadn't set his robes on fire, Harry would probably be dead."

"You set his robes on fire?" Harry asked loudly. "Brilliant!"

"Well, it wasn't a real fire. It was that spell." Hermione had learned a few weeks before to cast a spell that produced a cool fire that could be handled and carried about in a jar. "I put it on Snape's robes so he'd think he was on fire and have to break the spell. As soon as he did, that was when your broom righted itself."

"Who'd have thought? Snape." Ron said, shaking his head.

"Well, he does hate me," Harry said evenly. "I have to go see my father. He's probably going to want to make sure I haven't broken any bones or anything." Harry sighed. "See you back up at the castle. I'll tell him about Snape."

Hermione and Ron said goodbye and started off toward the castle as soon as they were outside. James pulled Harry into a tight hug. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"Yes," Harry assured him, squirming to get away. He loved his dad and all, but he was eleven now, and there were people watching! "Dad!" Harry said impatiently when he thought the hug had gone on quite long enough.

"What?" James asked, releasing him. Then suddenly it dawned on him, "Oh, are you too big to be hugged?"

"Well, I am eleven," Harry told him.

"I see. Well, for the record, anyone too big to be hugged is also too big for Christmas presents."

Harry immediately wrapped his arms around his father's waist.

"That's what I thought," James said with a grin. Sirius let out a small snort of laughter.

"What happened up there?" James asked as they began to make their way toward the castle.

"I don't know," Harry said. "One moment the broom was fine and the next it was trying to throw me off. Then all of a sudden, it was fine again. Hermione reckons it was Snape."

James, Remus, and Sirius all answered at once.

"That's not possible," James said.

"It couldn't have been Snape," Remus said.

"He wouldn't do that," Sirius said.

Then Sirius continued. "He's a teacher. He wouldn't attack a student."

"Hermione says she knows all about jinxes and that Snape wasn't blinking. She also says she set his robes on fire and that's when the spell stopped.

"She set his robes on fire?" James asked.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Sirius said.

"That takes guts," James continued approvingly.

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't a real fire. It was a spell. The fire doesn't catch and you can carry it in a jar. It's good for sneaking out at night," Harry informed them.

"How often have you been sneaking out?" Remus asked sternly.

"Not that often," Harry answered quickly. Remus had that look in his eye that said clearly that a lecture was coming on, and Harry wanted to avoid it if possible. "So, why would Snape try to jinx my broom?"

"I do not for one moment believe that Professor Snape would attack a student." Sirius said definitively.

"But Hermione says he did." Harry insisted.

"And do you always believe everything this Hermione says?" Remus asked.

"Yes," Harry said matter-of-factly. "She's always right."

"I'm beginning to see what you mean about this girl, Padfoot," James said quietly as they crossed the threshold into the entry hall.

"Now imagine having her in class," Sirius said with a small smile.

"Maybe I should go interview Snape," James said with a sigh.

"I don't think that's a good idea, James," Remus cut in.

"I'm not going to accuse him. Just see if he saw anything. I'll tell him I'm asking all the teachers. Maybe I _should_ ask all the teachers at that. Someone attacking an eleven-year-old, especially the boy-who-lived, is worthy of investigation, I think." Before anyone else could protest, James charged off toward the dungeons.

"I'm going to go with him, just to make sure no one gets hexed," Remus said, running off after James.

Harry and Sirius stood in the entry hall looking at one another. "Let's go to my quarters," Sirius said after a long pause. "Your dad will probably look for us there." Harry followed Sirius up the stairs.

"Why does Snape hate me so much?" Harry asked when they were in Sirius's quarters.

"It's not you he hates, Pronglet. It's your dad." Sirius explained.

"How could anyone not like Dad?" Harry asked.

"That I couldn't tell you. He's about the most likable chap I've ever known. But they took an instant dislike to one another, Snape and your dad, kind of like you and Malfoy. They were constantly hexing one another in the corridors and trying to get one another into trouble. We all thought he was a git, but he and his friends felt the same way about us."

"Snape had friends?" Harry asked. "Why in the world would anyone be his friend?"

"Your mother was," Sirius said quietly.

"She was?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Oh, yes, they were best mates our first few years. She used to get furious at James for cursing him. Then they had a bit of a falling out our fifth year. I never knew why, and I never much cared to. He had other friends as well. Mostly Slytherins."

"I can't believe mum was ever friends with him," Harry said, dropping down into Sirius's couch.

"I never could figure out what she saw in him."

"But if it's Dad he hates, why does he keep taking it out on me?" Harry whinged. "I haven't done anything to him"

"Most people do what they think is right, and Professor Snape is no different. He thinks your dad lets you run wild, and he won't hear anything different. When he looks at you, he sees your dad all over again, and he thinks he's the only person who can teach you to be better than your father. He thinks he's the only one who will. He's been up here loads of times to tell me about all the ways I ought to be punishing you."

"What does he think cursing my broomstick is going to teach me?" Harry asked bitterly.

"He didn't curse your broomstick. You should put that idea right out of your head," Sirius said sternly. "He may not be my favourite person, but he is a teacher here, and all the teachers here are dedicated to the students. We wouldn't be here if we weren't. Besides, Dumbledore would never let someone work here that he didn't trust, and if there's anyone whose judgment you can count on, it's Dumbledore's."

Harry changed the subject to the quidditch match and they passed the time discussing his fantastic save until James and Remus reappeared.

"How did it go?" Sirius asked apprehensively.

"No one was hexed, if that's what you mean," James said. "He says he didn't see anything, and he's very interested in knowing who set fire to his robes."

"You didn't tell him it was Hermione, did you?" Harry asked, worried.

James stared at him for a moment, "Do you really think I'd do something like that?"

"No, of course not." Harry said quickly. He hadn't really thought his dad would tell, but he felt relieved all the same. Adults were nothing if not unpredictable, and they all seemed to be rather loose-lipped where kids were concerned. Even Sirius, who could almost always be counted on to keep a secret, particularly if it was a secret involving some sort of naughtiness on Harry's part, sometimes insisted that James be told things that Harry thought would be much better left unsaid. There were times when Harry felt as if all the adults were conspiring against the kids.

"Do you really believe he didn't see anything?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I do." James said firmly. "I don't think it's any great secret that I don't like the man, but I don't think he would attack a child. And even if he would, he's far too smart to do in front of witnesses, not to mention the most powerful wizard in the world."

Harry was sure that his dad, Sirius, and Remus were wrong, but he could also tell they were running out of patience with him, so he decided to let it drop.

Changing the subject, he asked suddenly, "Dad, who's Nicholas Flamel?"

"Why do you want to know?" Sirius asked.

"I just heard his name somewhere and I was curious," Harry said, hoping he sounded casual.

"Where?" James asked suspiciously. "Where did you hear his name?"

"I don't remember," Harry lied. He hated the thought of lying to his father, but he really didn't want to get Hagrid into trouble. It was only a little lie, he reasoned to himself. "It must have been in class."

"Harry, is there something you ought to be telling me?" James asked, staring at his son as though he could see straight into Harry's mind. Harry briefly considered telling his dad that he knew about Fluffy and knew that Snape had been bitten by him on Halloween night whilst trying to get to whatever Fluffy was guarding, but he thought he had pushed his luck with accusations against Snape quite enough for one day. So he shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"You should be getting back to your common room," Sirius said slowly. "I'm sure your team is waiting to celebrate with you." Harry nodded and, giving his father one last brief hug, he darted out of Sirius's quarters and ran back to Gryffindor tower at top speed.

"He's obviously lying," Remus said as soon as Harry was out the door.

"He wouldn't lie to me," James said quickly. "He knows better."

"Well, there's something going on with him," Sirius said. "He knows something, or at least he thinks he does."

"If he thinks Snape's out to get him, maybe he's afraid he can't talk to us about it." Remus pointed out. "We were a bit short with him about it."

"That's because it's codswallop. I hate Snivellus as much as the next person, but he wouldn't attack a student. He's a greasy git and he's a bully, but he's not a monster." Sirius said shortly.

"Do you think he knows about the Philosopher's Stone?" James asked suddenly.

"No, that's not possible," Sirius answered quickly. "He couldn't possibly know about that."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," James said. "He has quite the knack for knowing things he shouldn't. Of all the deadly combinations, he had to get my curiosity and Lily's brains."


	11. Pranks and Promises

In late November, snow finally came to Hogwarts, along with a cold snap so severe that students took to bundling up in the corridors. Midnight practicals on top of the Astronomy tower were brutal, but Sirius kept the students laughing so much that they were still Harry's favourite hour of the week. The week before their exams, it was so cold that Harry was sure his face would freeze to his telescope as he searched for Cassiopeia. Sirius was busy animatedly telling them about how Cassiopeia angered Poseidon and how her daughter, Andromeda, was going to be sacrificed to a sea monster until the hero Perseus sailed in at the last moment and rescued her. "That's how all those Greek chaps were." Sirius was telling them, fighting an invisible sea monster with a pretend sword. "They never could get anywhere with time to spare. Always showed up just before the maiden was about to be devoured or right as the ship was about to sink. If they'd been English, they'd have showed up on time and saved everyone a lot of bother. When you come back after the hols, we'll find Andromeda and the sea monster, whose name, I am sorry to tell you, was Cetus. Does anyone know what Cetus is sometimes called?" Harry and Hermione both shot their hands in the air. "Mr. Potter," Sirius called.

"The whale," Harry answered.

"Very good. Five points for Gryffindor! And as a reward, you get to go inside for ten minutes and warm up. Now, who can tell me where I might look for Cetus?" Every student raised their hand.

"Mr. Weasley," Sirius called, looking surprised at the sudden interest in Cetus. He had never been this popular before.

"The sky," Ron said hopefully. "Can I go in and warm up, too?"

Sirius laughed. "Oh, all right. Let's all go in. It's so cold my teeth are starting to chatter." The students all made a beeline for the door, with Neville Longbottom nearly knocking Sirius down to get there quickly. Then Neville was so nervous he stood there shivering until Sirius told him to stop worrying so much and go inside before he froze to death.

Hermione had begun worrying over exams a full three weeks before, so she wanted to use the extra time gleaned from the class cancellation to study. Harry and Ron quickly nixed that idea and instead Harry decided the time had finally come to start playing pranks on Sirius. Grabbing a handful of dungbombs and some fireworks, he donned his invisibility cloak and made his way out of the portrait hole.

There was a painting in the castle that Sirius hated so much he would shield his eyes every time he walked by it. The painting was of a particularly dim-looking mountain troll that paced back and forth brandishing his club menacingly. Harry made his way down to the second floor and used a severing charm to get it off the wall. It was quite a bit larger and heavier than it had looked on the wall, but Harry still managed to levitate it up to the Astronomy tower. He had to stop his progress only once, when the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's house ghost, and Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor house ghost, floated by having a heated argument over something called the "Headless Hunt". As soon as he was sure they were gone, Harry resumed his journey to the Astronomy tower. When he got there, he listened carefully at the door. It was nearly 1:30, but it wouldn't have surprised him if Sirius was still awake. He propped the painting of the troll against the wall and tapped the door with his wand. "Alohomora," he whispered, and the door popped open. Harry tiptoed inside, but it was clear Sirius had gone to bed. All the lights were off, and Harry could barely see. He went to get the painting and levitated it into Sirius's room and held it right over the bed. Then he set off a dungbomb and several fireworks at nearly the same time. Sirius woke to see a troll bearing down on him, with the smell and the crashes to accompany it. Harry had never heard such a sound. Sirius screamed like a six-year-old girl. Harry was standing in the corner, still under his cloak, biting his lip so that he wouldn't laugh. When Sirius flailed so much he fell out of the bed with the bedclothes still wrapped around himself and then tripped while trying to stand up to run away, Harry lost the battle and laughed out loud.

"What the hell?" Sirius asked. Then, grabbing his wand, he muttered, "Lumos". His wand tip lit up and he realized very quickly that the attacking troll was only a painting. Harry was laughing so hard he could barely stand. It took Sirius only a moment to locate him and pull the invisibility cloak off of him. Then he stood there watching Harry laugh and breathing hard, trying not to laugh himself.

"Remind me to smack you after I change my shorts," Sirius finally said.

"I thought you didn't believe in smacking," Harry said, gasping for breath. He did not for one moment believe he was in danger of being smacked. He had overheard Sirius, Remus, and his dad talking about it once when he was eight and had gotten into a spot of mischief. Remus insisted he ought to have a smacking for it, while Sirius had insisted that smacking was a barbaric practice. Harry had been mostly sure his dad wouldn't actually smack him over it, but he still felt relieved when James only took away his toy wand for the weekend.

"I might be willing to make an exception for you," Sirius said, losing his battle with his laughter.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" Harry screamed, falling onto the ground and doubling up. Sirius went to the window and opened it to let out the smell of the dungbombs and a bit of the smoke from the fireworks, then he took the painting, which had fallen on the bed and propped it up facing the wall.

"I'm going to lock you in my wardrobe," Sirius said, laughing. He knew that Harry was not fond of close-in spaces. "See how you like it."

Harry was still laughing. "Shh," he told Sirius, "I'm trying to remember your face!"

Just then there was a knock on the door and Argus Filch's voice came floating into the bedroom. "I heard screaming. Is everything all right?" Filch asked.

"Shut up!" Sirius ordered, picking up the invisibility cloak from where he had thrown it on a chair and tossing it over Harry, who was still doubled up on the floor. "I'm fine," he announced to Filch as he made his way out into the living room. "I was just listening to the wireless."

"Your door was open," Filch said suspiciously.

"I just ran to get something from my classroom, and I must have forgotten to close it." Sirius's lies were smooth. Harry wished he could lie so well.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Filch asked. "That screaming didn't sound like the wireless."

"And yet, it was. Thank you for checking on me, but everything's fine. Good night!" Harry hardly dared to move until he heard the door shut, then Sirius came back and pulled the cloak off of him. "You idiot," he said smiling, "Never leave the door open! Have I taught you nothing? I ought to turn you into a peach mongoose."

"That was a good prank, though, wasn't it?" Harry asked hopefully.

Sirius looked at him appraisingly. "Not bad at that," he said. "Gave me a good fright. I guess I'm going to have to start locking my doors with something a little stronger, then, aren't I?"

"I'll learn all the unlocking spells," Harry said.

"You had best be careful. Never forget that I know where you sleep, and I know the password. Turnabout is fair play, after all."

"You wouldn't!" Harry said.

"Wouldn't I?" Sirius asked. "You should get back. And take this horrid painting with you. I don't ever want to look at it again."

Harry grabbed the painting and levitated it in front of him out the door.

"Sweet dreams," Sirius said menacingly as Harry walked out the door. Sirius gave his bum a playful kick as he left.

Then Sirius went to his room and got his mirror and shouted James's name into it until James appeared, sleepy and rubbing his eyes.

"What do you want, Padfoot?" James asked. "This had better be important, or I'm going to come over there and hex you."

"It's not at all important, and you will not hex me. I'm awake because of your son, so I thought it only fair that you be awake with me. Would you like to know what your son has been up to?" He told the story of the troll painting.

"Does he know you're scared of trolls?" James asked when he had stopped laughing.

"I don't think so. I've never told him, anyway. He only knew I hated the painting"

"I'll have to remember to congratulate him next time I talk to him. It's not every day someone can put one over on Sirius Black. I'm going to bed now."

"You are doing no such thing. There's no way I'm going to be able to go back to sleep now, and I think you should have to stay up with me since it's your son who caused all this trouble in the first place. If you put the mirror away, I'll just start shouting again."

"Then I'll put it in my trunk and cast a silencing charm on it." James informed his friend.

"You do, and I'll floo myself over there and dump water on your head."

"Then I'll be sure to put an imperturbable charm on my door." Then James's face disappeared. Moments later, the mirror went dark. Plotting his revenge on both Harry and James, Sirius laid down to sleep. It was nearly dawn before his adrenaline finally stopped and he managed to fall into dreamland. It felt like he had only just shut his eyes when it was time to get up again. He groaned. All his dreams had been of trolls. As he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he checked briefly to be sure Harry had hung the painting back up. He laughed out loud when he saw it. Harry had hung it upside down and, from the looks of it, put a sticking charm on the back. Filch would have a time of it setting it right again. Upside down, the painting didn't frighten Sirius nearly as much. The troll inside it was clinging to a tree to keep from falling into the sky.

"_He thinks of everything,_" Sirius thought approvingly. "_The whole castle will be a mess the day he learns the permanent sticking charm. He'll probably put every painting in the whole place upside down. That's not a bad idea, at that. I wonder why Prongs and I never thought of it. I suppose it's not too late. I could always blame it on the students. No one would ever guess. Maybe that could be my project over Christmas. I wonder if the Pronglet would lend me his cloak._"

Sirius sighed. He was so proud of Harry he thought he might bust. He was also so sleepy, he thought he might curl up right here in the corridor, or he would if it weren't so cold. He continued on to the Great Hall where he planned to drink at least three cups of coffee. He never made it to the coffee, however. Instead, he fell asleep at the staff table with his face in his eggs and didn't wake until McGonagall shook him so hard he fell out of his chair. He jumped back up, bits of egg sticking to his forehead. He heard loud laughter and saw Harry and his friends watching him. Harry had clearly told them what he had done. Even Hermione was laughing.

"Hard night last night?" McGonagall asked lightly.

"You have no idea," Sirius answered.

"Please tell me you weren't with a woman," she said sternly.

"No, I wasn't," Sirius assured her, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bits of egg off his face. "I wish I had been. I just couldn't sleep was all."

"Maybe you should ask Severus to brew you up a sleeping potion," she suggested.

"Oh, I think I'll sleep fine tonight," he said, "but thank you for the suggestion."

McGonagall shrugged and returned to her plate. Sirius grabbed a cup of coffee and gulped it down, glaring at the still-laughing Harry, who did not even have the grace to look ashamed of himself. Sirius wasn't sure what he was going to do, but someday he would get even with the little Pronglet. Of that much, he was sure.


	12. Mirrors and Musings

_Author's Note: I've noticed that my reviews have really dropped off lately, so I wanted to just check in and make sure everyone's still enjoying the story. If anyone has constructive criticisms, don't be afraid to lay them on me; I can take them. I really want to know what my strengths and weaknesses are as a writer because, hey, that's how you get better!_

* * *

Ron's second-eldest brother, Charlie, worked with dragons in Romania. Ron's parents were planning to visit him over Christmas, so the Potters were hosting Ron, Fred, and George for Christmas. Percy was planning to spend the holiday studying for his O.W.L.s, and Ginny would be accompanying her parents to Romania. If Ron was upset over spending Christmas away from his family, he didn't show it. He seemed to think spending Christmas with Harry and his dad would be brilliant, but Harry couldn't imagine not spending Christmas at home. In the week before the holiday, Draco Malfoy could be heard all over the school announcing loudly that he felt sorry for people who would not be spending the holidays at home because they were not wanted by their families, but he made the mistake of saying it in Astronomy and Sirius took ten points from him. He was a little less enthusiastic about it after that.

Two nights before they were supposed to leave for the holidays, Harry found himself unable to sleep, so he slipped into his invisibility cloak and sneaked out of the portrait hole, planning to have a look about the library to see if he could find out anything about Nicholas Flamel. After his dad's reaction, he was loathe to ask teachers about it, and he, Ron, and Hermione had been trying on their own to find out anything at all about him. Harry couldn't shake the suspicion that he'd heard the name somewhere before, but he could not think where it may have been. Earlier that day, he had even gone down to question Hagrid, but he had been maddeningly tight-lipped. Harry cast the cool flame spell he had learned from Hermione as soon as he got to the library and made his way toward the restricted section. The books here were old and dusty and full of dark magic; only the oldest students were allowed to check out books from this section, and even then only with a signed note from a teacher, but now, covered with his cloak as he was, he could look about to his heart's content and no one would be any the wiser. Picking up a large and particularly interesting-looking book from the shelf, Harry took it to a table and opened it up to read. The book immediately began to scream. "_Just my luck_," Harry thought as he struggled to close the book, "_of all the books in this place, I have to get the one that screams bloody murder. Why do these things always happen to me?_" He had just gotten the book closed when he heard the sound of the library door opening and turned to see Filch, followed by his vile cat, Mrs. Norris. There was no time to put the book away or put out his fire. Checking to be sure he had the invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around himself, Harry backed away from the table as quickly as he dared. Filch came in to investigate and found the book and the jar with the flame still burning inside.

"Don't worry, my pet," Filch told Mrs. Norris. "He can't have gone far. We'll find the miscreant."

Mrs. Norris meowed and turned to look directly at Harry. Harry briefly wondered if she could somehow see through invisibility cloaks. When she began stalking toward him, he decided not to wait around to find out. He ran as quickly as he dared on his tiptoes, so he'd make less noise. Mrs. Norris meowed loudly behind him. He ducked out of the library and took refuge in a nearby locked classroom, silently thanking Hermione once again for having taught him the alohomora spell. He bent down to look through the keyhole and hardly dared to breathe until Filch had gone around the corner with Mrs. Norris on his heels. He rose and turned, leaning back against the door relieved. That was when he first noticed the contents of the room. It was completely empty except for a full-length mirror that was bathed in moonlight. He took a step closer to it and read the inscription around the edges, "_erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."_ Harry wondered what that meant as he looked at himself in the mirror, then he gasped as someone appeared behind him. He turned to see who else was in the room with him, but quickly realized that he was completely alone. He turned back to the mirror and was surprised once again to see himself standing with someone. He started when he realized who it was. He felt a tear run down his cheek; it was his mother. "Mum?" Harry asked the empty room. He loved his father, but he had always longed to know his mother. In the mirror, his mother smiled and nodded at him, mouthing "I love you." Harry thought he had never missed having a mother so much as he did in that moment. He put out a hand to touch her and she held her hand out to him as well, touching through the mirror. Harry wished he could fall through the mirror and land where she was. He thought maybe if he wished it hard enough it would really happen, but it never did. He looked and looked; he couldn't get enough. Then a thought occurred to him: he had to show Ron! He ran to Gryffindor tower and shook Ron awake. Ron protested but eventually gave in and came with Harry to the empty classroom. "Look, Ron, it's my mother!" Harry told him when he stood in front of the mirror.

Ron was looking at him like he was mental, "I don't see anything," he said skeptically.

"Maybe you have to be standing in front of it properly," Harry told him. The boys quickly traded places. "Do you see her? Isn't she pretty?" Harry asked, but Ron wasn't listening.

"Would you look at that?" Ron asked. "It's me. I'm all grown up, but I can tell it's me. He's got my nose. Look, Harry, I'm head boy and quidditch captain. I look dashing! Do you think this shows the future?"

"How can it?" Harry asked. "My mother's dead."

"Hmmmm," Ron said, rotating to look at himself sideways.

"Let me have another look," Harry said.

"No, you had a turn," Ron snapped. "I'm not finished yet."

The two might have had a row if they hadn't heard the sound of someone talking outside the door. They looked through the keyhole and saw Quirrell, looking pale and white-faced. In front of him, with his back to the boys, was Snape. "Have you had a chance to decide where your loyalties lie?" Snape asked menacingly.

"P-p-please, don't h-h-hurt me." Quirrell stuttered.

"Don't ever forget that I'm watching you," Snape said threateningly, then he turned and walked away, his cloaks billowing out behind him so impressively that Harry thought he must have enchanted them. Harry looked at Quirrell's face. He looked as though he might cry. He hugged himself and straightened his turban and then walked away, whimpering.

"What do you reckon that was about?" Ron whispered when the coast was clear.

"I don't know, but we better get back. Getting caught out of bed by Filch is one thing, but getting caught by Snape would be murder."

Harry threw the cloak over Ron and the two made their way back to their dormitory. Ron went straight to sleep, but Harry couldn't fall asleep until nearly dawn, and when he did he dreamed that his mother was running from him and no matter how fast he went, he couldn't catch her.

The next night, Harry went back to look in the mirror. After their scare with Snape, Ron resolutely refused to go again, but Harry, who had never known his mother, couldn't wait to see her face again. He was staring at her, wishing she would talk to him, when he heard a voice behind him.

"I see you have found my mirror," the voice said. Harry turned to see Dumbledore standing there.

"Sir, I was just... I thought... I mean I..." Harry stuttered.

"Don't worry, my boy. You are not the first to be enchanted by the Mirror of Erised, and I doubt you will be the last. Have you figured out what the mirror does?"

"It shows me my mother," Harry said.

"It shows every person no more and no less than his or her heart's desire. Your friend Ron, who has always felt overshadowed by the accomplishments of his brothers, sees himself standing alone as the greatest of the lot. You, who have grown up always wishing you could have known your mother, naturally see her standing with you."

"I love my dad, though," Harry said quickly.

"Of course, you do. Wishing for your mother doesn't mean you love your father any less." Dumbledore told him, smiling sadly, coming to stand behind him and putting an arm on his shoulder. Together, they stared into the mirror for a moment before Dumbledore spoke. "Men have wasted away in front of this mirror, so intent on their dreams that they forget to live. You must not repeat their mistake. I will be moving it tomorrow, and I must ask you not to go looking for it."

"I won't," Harry whispered, taking one last look at his mother. Then he met Dumbledore's eye in the mirror."How did you know what Ron saw in the mirror?"

"I do not need a cloak to become invisible, Harry."

"Oh," Harry answered, then, "May I ask you a question, sir?"

"Ask away, my dear boy."

"What do you see, sir, when you look in the mirror?"

"Me?" Dumbledore asked. "I see myself surrounded by socks. A man really can't ever have enough socks, but no one ever thinks to give them to me. Everyone always insists on giving me books." Dumbledore smiled. "Now you should be getting back to your dormitory before Mr. Filch realizes someone's out of bed and gets excited. I would hate for him to be disappointed two nights in a row."

Harry trotted off obediently to his dormitory thinking of what he had just learned and missing his mother.

* * *

Harry didn't realize how homesick he'd been until he saw James at King's Cross Station. He dropped his trunk and ran to his dad, wrapping his arms around him. He'd been talking to his dad about once a week, but hadn't seen him in person since the quidditch match. James piled the boys into the car, which was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside, thanks to some clever charms work on James's part. Harry was so exhausted after two sleepless nights that he fell asleep in the middle of his story about how much trouble Filch had getting the troll painting put right again after Harry stuck it on the wall upside-down. Fred and George finished the story for him. Harry woke up early the next morning in his own bed with no memory of how he got there. James had conjured an extra bed in Harry's room for Ron, who was fast asleep. The twins were in the guest room. Harry made his way downstairs and smiled broadly at his father, who was reading the Daily Prophet and munching on some toast. "Good morning," Harry said brightly. "Anything exciting in the Prophet today?"

"Not in the slightest. There never is. The goblins think they may have a new lead on the break-in this summer." There had been a break-in at Gringott's Bank over the summer, just one day after Harry, Sirius, and Remus had been in Diagon Alley buying Harry's school supplies. Nothing was stolen. It turned out the thief had tried to get into a vault that had already been emptied. "I don't envy that bloke when he gets caught. I just hope we get to him before the goblins do." James continued. Harry nodded. Goblins could be very nasty where their gold was concerned. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry nodded, grabbing a slice of toast and pouring himself some orange juice.

"Were exams really that bad?"

"No, I didn't sleep much the last couple of nights at Hogwarts." Harry told his dad about the Mirror of Erised and what he had seen in it. His dad listened intently, nodding while Harry explained how lovely it had been to see his mother, even if it was only in reflection form.

"There's not a day goes by that I don't wish you could have known her." James said when he had finished the story. "She was really something."

Harry nodded and then told his dad about the exchange he had overheard between Quirrell and Snape. James listened intently to that as well, and didn't say anything for a long while after Harry had finished.

"Well?" Harry finally asked.

"You have no idea what that was about. It may have been anything." James finally said. "They may have been betting on a quidditch match for all you know."

"They weren't betting on a quidditch match, Dad," Harry said, exasperated. "Snape's up to no good. He tried to get past Fluffy on Halloween! Why am I the only person who's taking this seriously?"

"It's not that I'm not taking you seriously, Harry, it's just that I think you're jumping to conclusions. If my training as an auror has taught me nothing else, it's that you have to be sure about something before you make an accusation. You're trying to make a lot of very tenuous evidence mean something that is highly unlikely. I know Snape's a git. And I know he picks on you, and I'd very much like to hex him on your behalf, but there's not a single thing you've told me that makes me think he's up to anything he shouldn't be."

"But he tried to get past Fluffy!" Harry insisted.

"Who in the world is Fluffy?" James asked.

"Hagrid's dog," Harry explained. "It's guarding something on the third floor, and Snape tried to get to whatever it is on Halloween. He's probably trying to steal it. Hermione, Ron, and I think he let in the troll as a distraction, but he got bitten, and I heard him telling Filch that it was Fluffy who bit him."

James's face had gone pale. "How do you know all this?"

Harry told his dad how he had come to discover Fluffy and then how he had found out, trying his hardest to tell the story in such a way that it didn't sound like Hagrid had done anything wrong. The more he talked, the paler James grew.

"Do you know what Fluffy's guarding?" James asked when Harry had finished the story.

Harry shook his head. "But it has to be something important, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't be guarding it."

"You listen to me very carefully, Harry. I want you to stay far, far away from Fluffy. He's dangerous, even if Hagrid insists otherwise. And I want you to stop sticking your nose into it. It's not your business what he's guarding."

"But Snape--" Harry said, interrupting.

James cut him off, "Professor Snape is one of the people protecting the stone. He wouldn't try to steal it."

"The stone?" Harry asked. James groaned at his own dim-wittedness. "You know what's down there." Harry said. It wasn't a question.

"Of course I know what's down there. I am an auror, after all. And I'm telling you it's none of your business. You should be focusing on schoolwork and quidditch and playing with your friends. Let the adults worry about Fluffy and what he's guarding."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but James cut him off.

"No, Harry. No arguments. This is important. I want you to promise me you'll stop this. We've got the situation well in hand. You need to trust me."

"I trust you," Harry said. "I'll drop it."

"Thank you," James said. "Now I was thinking that once the others get up, we could go get a Christmas tree."

"Can we get a big one?"

"The biggest we can fit in here." James told him with a smile.

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "I wish they'd get up soon."

"Let's give them at least until 8:00," James said, giving a small laugh. "And then maybe we can start accidentally dropping things."

"I like dropping things," Harry told his father.

"I know, and you're good at it, too." James replied, reaching over to ruffle Harry's hair.

"Dad," Harry said in a warning tone, ducking away from his father's hand and trying to smooth out his hair.

"Oh, are you too old for that now, too?" James asked.

"Does being too old for that make me too old for Christmas presents?" Harry asked.

"No," James responded.

"Then yes, I am too old."

"Although it does make you too old for birthday presents," James said, smiling mischievously.

Harry sighed. "Fine," he said, leaning his head forward so that his father could reach him. "Do your worst."

James reached out with both hands and mussed Harry's hair until it was sticking straight out all over his head. When he took his hand away, he laughed loudly. "Oh, you look a fright," he said, gasping. "You really should see yourself."

Harry glared at him. "It's a good thing for you I love you so much. Otherwise, I'd pour my orange juice on your head."

"That wouldn't be smart," James said with a grin, "because then I'd have to find something to pour on your head, and I'd be willing to bet I could find something much nastier than orange juice."

"Maybe I'll just keep it like this," Harry said, touching the tips of his hair experimentally. "I could just stop combing it altogether. It never does any good anyway." Harry was notorious for his messy hair. No matter what he did to it, it would never lie flat. He had inherited the problem from James, who had inherited it from his mother.

"You could try growing it out," James suggested. "I did that for a bit my third year. It grew straight out from my head. I gave it up when other students started complaining about not being able to see around me in class and Sirius started hiding things in there while I was sleeping just to see how long it would take me to find them. When I finally let my mother cut it, she found a galleon, three fireworks, two chocolate frog cards, six cloves of garlic, a quill, and a live salamander in there."

"You're making that up," Harry said, laughing.

"Oh, all right, there was no salamander. But the rest of it's true. On my honor as a marauder."

Harry and James laughed so loudly that they woke Ron, Fred, and George. The three of them ambled down the stairs and immediately joined in the laughter as soon as they saw Harry's hair. Harry didn't mind being laughed at, but he was a little disappointed that they wouldn't get to drop things.


	13. A Cheerful Christmas

_Author's note: thanks everyone for the reviews. I know I'm not always the best about saying it, but I really do read and appreciate every one. Here's the next chapter, submitted for your approval... new and improved with shorter paragraphs  
_

* * *

Harry awoke early on Christmas morning and made his way down the stairs. He made himself some hot cocoa and sat in front of the fireplace to wait for Sirius. He arrived shortly after six, a large bag of presents in hand, and greeted Harry warmly.

"Pronglet! Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," Harry said smiling.

"What are you drinking? Is that coffee?"

"No, hot cocoa. Would you like some?"

"No, I think I'll hold out for coffee." Then he put his bag of presents under the tree and started bellowing for James. This was their Christmas morning tradition. Usually Remus would be arriving soon as well, and if he didn't, Sirius would go over there and drag him out of bed, but Harry wasn't sure when Remus would be arriving today. He had always been sickly and had just had some sort of episode over the past few days. James had said last night that he was planning to come, however. Harry was looking forward to seeing him. He was also looking forward to Remus's Christmas gift. Remus's gifts were often his favorites; they were always imaginative and interesting, and nothing Harry would ever have expected.

James stumbled down the stairs in his pajamas. "All right, I'm up. You can stop shouting," he told Sirius through a wide-mouthed yawn. "Morning, Harry," he said as he trudged, bleary-eyed, to the kitchen to make coffee.

"Presents!" Ron shouted as soon as he ran down the stairs. He, Fred, and George made a beeline for the tree and plopped down beneath it. They all immediately began searching for packages with their names on them.

"Hold it, you three!" Sirius told them. "We have to wait for Remus."

"Will he be here soon?" Fred asked.

"Only we're kind of in a hurry here," Ron said.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Harry asked.

The three redheads looked at him like he was mental. "Presents!" Ron said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I do like to see someone who appropriately appreciates presents," Sirius said, smiling. "After I've had some coffee, maybe I'll go see if we can get him over here."

"No, he sent me an owl last night and said he's still not feeling well," James said, appearing with two mugs of coffee, one of which he handed off to Sirius. "He's going to sleep in and try to make it over here by lunchtime."

"We have to wait until lunchtime!" Ron protested. From the look on his face, you'd think someone had just suggested he kiss Draco Malfoy.

"Perish the thought," James said with a small laugh. "No, I think we can go ahead."

No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than Ron, Fred, and George attacked their presents.

"I'd jump in," James whispered to Sirius, "but I'm afraid I'd lose an arm."

"They're like wild animals. You can't reason with them. The only thing to do is just play dead and hope they decide you're not worth it." Sirius whispered back. "Or, better yet--" Sirius raised his voice, "Pronglet! Bring me my presents!"

"No way," Harry said, shaking his head and laughing. "I'm not going near them when they're like this."

Fred and George were both busy ripping into their gifts from one another.

"Percy sent me a homework planner!" Ron said, disgusted, while trying to pull a sweater from his mum over his head. Fred and George already had theirs on. Fred's was green and George's blue and they had the first letter of their name knitted into the front. Harry wondered if Mrs. Weasley did that so she could tell them apart. For all the time he spent with them, he still got them confused on occasion. When he confessed this to Ron, he admitted that he did, too. He said that their mum had always made them wear the same color until they were old enough to know their own names, and even so she wasn't completely sure that she hadn't switched them at some point so that Fred was really George and George really Fred.

When the smoke had cleared, and all the paper had been shredded, Harry, James, and Sirius opened their own presents.

"What's wrong with Mr. Lupin?" George asked when all the presents had been opened and the six of them sat munching on bacon. Harry looked at his dad expectantly. He had always wondered what exactly was wrong with Remus, but James would only ever say that he was ill. Harry had long since given up trying to get any more information than that.

"He's ill," James said.

"What's he got?" Fred asked.

"Is it contagious?" George asked.

"It's nothing too major, and no, it's not contagious. You don't need to worry about it." James said. "Who's up for playing in the snow?"

They all bundled up and went outside. James and Sirius made a snowman that would throw its own head at passersby while Harry, Ron, Fred, and George went sledding on a nearby hill. James had enchanted the sled to go faster than anyone would have thought possible. It didn't take long for Fred and George to decide to build a ramp and dare Harry and Ron to jump it. Harry wisely refused, but Ron went and had a moment of sheer airborne bliss before the sled flipped and he landed hard in a snowbank. He wasn't hurt, but he was drenched and shivering and not much in the mood for sledding after that. Fred and George retrieved the sled as though nothing had happened and resumed their downhill racing.

Ron made his way toward the house, and Harry followed. Sirius and James laughed loudly when their snowman's head hit Ron squarely in the ear. Harry rushed past before they could get a new head put on the snowman. Once they were inside and had changed into something warm and dry, Harry and Ron began a game of wizard's chess. Harry had never been particularly good at wizard's chess, and when they saw that he would be leading them today, his pieces immediately began to protest. They much preferred to play for James, who had quite a knack for the game. Harry told them to shut it and then had a grand time sending them into harm's way. Ron, on the other hand, was very good at wizard's chess. He had even managed to beat James at it the night before and had rubbed it in mercilessly. James had taken the gloating good-naturedly and then trounced Ron in a rematch.

As promised, just after lunchtime Remus showed up, looking exhausted but happy. "Sorry I'm late," he told them.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked.

"Yes, much, thank you," Remus assured him. Then he handed out his presents. He had brought Harry a model of a quidditch field with perfect likenesses of the English quidditch team to go with it. There was even a tiny little snitch, small as the head of a pin, that floated around, teasing the players. Harry could only just make it out. Ron couldn't see it at all. Harry stared at the model, speechless, and Remus mistook his awe for disappointment. "I know it's not much," Remus explained. "I picked up the players in a muggle second-hand shop and enchanted them. I had to transfigure their clothes into quidditch robes, and I made the broomsticks out of twigs. You hate it."

"No," Harry assured him, watching, amazed, as the minuscule seeker caught the nearly-microscopic snitch. "No, Remus, it's brilliant! Thank you!" Then he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Remus in a gesture of thanks. Remus smiled as though relieved.

"I'm sorry I've only got you the one team," Remus said. "I was thinking I might try my hand at making another team so they could have matches, but I ran out of time."

"Don't be sorry," Harry said, having returned to stare open-mouthed at his gift. "This is perfect."

"That's his favorite gift. A father knows these things." James whispered to Remus. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were all standing around the model talking excitedly about it.

"He didn't get that excited about my gift," Sirius said, feigning hurt. "You wait until next year. I'm really going to outdo myself."

"It's not a competition, you know," Remus said, smiling.

"You only say that because you've won." Sirius shot back.

The model quidditch pitch kept the boys busy for hours; even Fred and George couldn't take their eyes off of it for long. The men sat drinking mead and taking turns playing one another at wizard's chess. After dinner, James suggested the go out and shoot off fireworks, and they did, putting on a fantastic show. After all the fireworks were gone, they came and sat in front of the fireplace to warm up and the boys began methodically working their way through a stash of chocolate frogs. Harry gasped when he opened his third one to get Albus Dumbledore. Sneaking a glance at the adults to make sure they were properly occupied, Harry whispered to Ron.

"Ron, I've just remembered where I've heard of Nicholas Flamel!" Harry handed over the Dumbledore card without a word and watched as recognition dawned on Ron's face.

"First thing when we get back to Hogwarts," Ron whispered, "we've got to tell Hermione."

"I've got a better idea," Harry said, standing. "Come on."

"Where are you two off to?" James asked.

"I'm just going to show Ron something," Harry said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. He quickly led Ron to the library and put his hands on an alchemy book. "It says Flamel is Dumbledore's alchemy partner, so I reckon this is a good place to start looking," Harry said. It didn't take them long at all to find Flamel. "It says here that Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, and that he's six hundred sixty-five years old." Harry announced to Ron.

"The Philosopher's Stone? I think I've heard of that before. What is it?"

"According to this, it turns lead into gold and creates the elixir of life which, if drunk regularly, grants the drinker immortality."

"Immortality," Ron said breathlessly. "Wouldn't that be brilliant!"

Harry's mind was working at a furious pace as he closed the book. Hagrid had said that what Fluffy was guarding was between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. There was only one plausible explanation. "Ron, this must be what Fluffy's guarding. It's the Philosopher's Stone."

"Why would they need to keep it at Hogwarts?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Maybe someone's been trying to steal it. Oh, I've just had a thought! The day I went to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies, we ran into Hagrid and he said he was going to Gringott's for Hogwarts business. The next day was the day Gringott's was broken into, but the vault had already been emptied. What if that was why Hagrid was there that day? He was getting the Philosopher's Stone to take it to Hogwarts before it could be stolen!"

"But who would want to steal it?" Ron asked.

"Who wouldn't want to steal it?" Harry retorted.

"Harry? Ron? Are you coming back down?" James called. "I've made hot cocoa and popcorn. You better hurry before Sirius eats it all!"

"It may already be too late!" Sirius shouted up at them.

"Come on, quick!" Harry said, pulling Ron out of the library and running down the stairs just in time to see Sirius, Fred, and George in a furious scuffle over the popcorn. It wasn't long before the entire bowl went flying, spilling popcorn everywhere.

"Now, see what you've done," Sirius said sternly. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect your elders by giving them all the popcorn?"

"No," Fred and George said in unison.

"Luckily for you, I've got more," James said, trying and failing to hide his annoyance. "You lot clean this up, and I'll be back with separate bowls for everyone this time."

"You heard him," Sirius said. "Get cleaning."

"I meant for you to help!" James said.

"You're fighting a losing battle there, James," Remus pointed out.

"If he's not helping, we're not doing it either," Fred announced.

"Oh, all right, I'll help," Sirius relented, seeing that James was nearing the end of his patience. "But you two owe me one."

"I swear, it's worse than trying to take care of a toddler," James muttered to Harry on his way to the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later levitating seven small bowls of popcorn in front of him. He landed one deftly in the lap of each of his houseguests and, together, the seven of them sat in front of the fireplace sipping their cocoa, munching on popcorn, and listening to the wizard's wireless in the background as they chatted. Harry was quiet as he slowly worked his way through his popcorn, his mind caught between the intriguing mystery he had just uncovered and the promise he had made to his father less than a week before.


	14. Dragons and Dread

As the new term began at Hogwarts, Harry was determined to keep his promise to his father and let the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone drop. It was not his business, he told himself. As days turned to weeks and weeks to months, Harry found that it was easy not to think about the stone. Hermione and Ron wanted to investigate more, but Harry stubbornly refused. By the time Winter melted into Spring, the three of them had nearly forgotten about it completely. It was an unseasonably warm day in mid-March when Harry realized he hadn't seen Hagrid in quite some time and decided to pay him a call. He asked Ron and Hermione to come along and they readily agreed.

When they arrived at his hut, the drapes were closed tightly. "It looks like he's not home," Hermione said, unsure.

"Can't hurt to knock," Harry said, knocking loudly. Hagrid's boarhound, Fang, began barking loudly on the other side of the door. "Fang's here," Harry told his friends. "That means Hagrid's here. He loves that dog."

Sure enough, just then Hagrid opened the door a crack and peeked out.

"I'm a little busy right now." Hagrid told them.

"But we haven't seen you in forever," Harry protested. "Please can't we just come in for a moment."

"All righ', but only a moment, and quick!" Hagrid said, opening the door just wide enough for Harry and his friends to come in single-file.

"Hagrid, it's burning up in here!" Ron said, sitting down on one of Hagrid's chairs. Despite the unseasonably warm weather, Hagrid had a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Hagrid kept glancing at the fire nervously as the four of them chatted. "Hagrid, what are you up to?" Harry finally asked.

"Well, I think it's time you lot got goin'." Hagrid said, standing. Harry stood, too, and went over to the fire to have a closer look. There was something amongst the flames, but Harry couldn't figure out what it might be.

"What is that?" Harry said.

"All righ', it's a dragon egg." Hagrid said, sounding relieved to finally be telling someone. "I've always wanted one."

"You've always wanted a _dragon_?" Ron asked. "Hagrid, they're really dangerous."

"They're really illegal," Hermione added. "How did you get one?"

"Got it off a fellow down at the pub."

"A fellow at the pub just gave you a dragon egg?" Harry asked.

"Oh, he didn' just give it to me!" Hagrid assured them. "He wanted to be sure I could take care of it, firs'. But I told him, I said, after Fluffy, a dragon would be a piece o' cake."

Shooting Hermione a look that he hoped would tell her to keep quiet, Harry asked casually, "Did he seem interested in Fluffy?"

"Well, how common do yeh think three-headed dogs are? But I told him, I said, Fluffy's easy if yeh know how to handle him. Jus' play him a bit of music, and he goes straight teh sleep!"

"What did this fellow look like?" Harry asked.

"I didn' see his face, now you mention it. He wore a cloak."

"And you didn't think that was odd?" Ron asked.

"No, yeh get a lot of funny folk down in the Hog's Head. Half the people in there keep their faces covered."

"Sounds lovely," Hermione said weakly.

"We should be going," Harry said, heading for the door. "Good luck with your dragon."

"Yeh won' tell anyone, righ?" Hagrid asked. "Don' tell anyone and I'll let yeh know when he hatches!" He said this as though it were an incentive. Harry thought he'd like nothing better to be in another country when the dragon hatched.

"We won't tell," Harry assured Hagrid.

"We won't?" Ron asked. Harry stood on his toe. "No, we won't!" Ron covered quickly.

"You stood on my toe!" Ron said when they were outside.

"You were about to ruin our chances of ever getting more information out of Hagrid." Harry told him. "You two should both just let me do all the talking with him from now on."

"What are you on about?" Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a significant look. Hermione took over the explanations. "Don't you find it odd that Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, and a stranger who just happens to have a spare dragon egg lying around just happens to be in the pub at the same time as Hagrid and just happens to be willing to give Hagrid the dragon egg if and only if he's willing to give out information about the three-headed dog who just happens to be guarding the Philosopher's Stone?"

Harry and Hermione watched as understanding dawned on Ron's face. "It was Snape who gave him the dragon egg! Snape knows how to get past Fluffy!"

"Glad to see you've caught up," Harry said grimly.

"We have to tell someone," Hermione told her friends. "Hagrid could get into trouble."

"There's no reason to tell anyone yet. Maybe we can convince him to get rid of it before it hatches," Harry suggested. Even as he heard the words come out of his mouth, he knew there was very little chance of that happening.

"Maybe we could just tell Professor Black. Get him to talk to Hagrid," Hermione responded.

"Hermione, he gave you permission to call him Sirius outside of class." Harry told her.

"I know. I just can't quite bring myself to do it."

"I think Harry's right," Ron put in. "We'll try to convince Hagrid to give up the dragon on his own. If he lets it hatch, then we can tell Sirius." Ron, who had known Sirius longer, and didn't fancy him, had no qualms whatsoever about calling him by his given name. "But we should tell someone about Snape."

"I've tried," Harry said darkly. "No one believes me. My dad said Snape's one of the teachers protecting the stone, so that must mean that Fluffy's just the first line of defense. I suppose we'll have to just hope that the other teachers' defenses hold. There's not really anything else we can do about it."

Hermione and Ron agreed reluctantly with Harry, and the three of them made their way back to the common room. Over the next few weeks, they went to Hagrid's hut nearly every day, but they could not convince him to give the dragon egg away. He clung to his dream of owning a dragon and would not hear reason, even when Hermione pointed out that his hut was made of wood and that dragons were very, very fiery. "He'd never burn down my hut!" Hagrid said indignantly.

"I think he might be mental," Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron as they left his hut that evening. The next day, they got a note in the middle of class telling them that the dragon was hatching. After their last class of the day, they ran to Hagrid's hut. As always, it was roasting hot. Harry had been there less than five minutes when he felt sweat trickling uncomfortably down the back of his neck. Hagrid was staring expectantly at the egg, which was rocking inside the fire and emitted occasional squeaks.

As the four of them watched, a large crack appeared in the egg. Seizing a pair of tongs, Hagrid quickly removed the egg from the fireplace and placed it on the table, just in time for the crack to lengthen and widen as a small beak protruded. Everything seemed to go quickly after that and, as the children watched, astounded, a small green dragon emerged from the egg and began licking itself.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid asked.

"He's something," Harry said. Beautiful was not the world he would have used.

"Hagrid, you can't keep him," Hermione said. "He's dangerous."

"He wouldn't hurt a fly. He's jus' a baby!" Hagrid protested. Just then, the dragon hiccuped and emitted a thin stream of flame. "Isn't he precious?"

"Hagrid, what happens when he's not a baby anymore?" Ron asked. "What happens when he's too big to fit inside?"

"I'll keep him in the fores'. There are all sorts of things in there." Hagrid told them.

"We have to tell someone," Hermione said as they made their way back up to the castle.

"Let's give him a few of days with it, let him see how hard it is to take care of. If he still won't let it go, we'll tell Sirius." Harry said firmly.

"I think we should tell him now," Hermione argued.

"I think we can wait," Ron voted. "How much could go wrong in a few days?"

A few days turned into a week, and then a week became two weeks. In the meantime, Norbert, as Hagrid had named the baby dragon, was growing by leaps and bounds. After two weeks, he was the size of a medium-sized dog and was regularly setting fire to Hagrid's hut. When he set fire to Hagrid's beard, Harry decided the time had come to put his foot down. "Hagrid, you have to get rid of Norbert. If you don't, we're going to tell Professor Black about him."

After some initial protesting, Hagrid agreed to their plan, which was to write to Ron's brother, Charlie, for help. It just so happened that two of Charlie's friends were in Britain at the moment, and they readily agreed to collect the dragon on their way back to Romania. That was how Harry found himself under his invisibility cloak in the middle of the night, making his way to Hagrid's hut. Their plan was to take Norbert to the top of the Astronomy tower and hand him off to Charlie's friends and then hurry back to their beds before anyone noticed they were gone. The first wrinkle in the plan occurred in Hagrid's hut when Ron was bitten. Hagrid, who had had a few bites go nasty, insisted that Ron go to the hospital wing. As he watched his wound begin to swell and ooze, he queasily agreed. Hagrid and Ron went off, leaving Harry and Hermione alone with Norbert.

They managed to get Norbert to the top of the Astronomy tower without incident, much to Harry's relief. Charlie's friends turned out to be cheerful company as they worked to secure Norbert in a harness they had built for him that could be balanced between their broomsticks. Harry felt the tension leave his body as he watched them fly away with Norbert between them. Then he felt it return as he heard someone join them on the tower. Harry turned, fully expecting it to be Sirius, and was shocked to instead see Draco Malfoy.

"Where is it? Where's the dragon?" Malfoy asked them.

"What dragon?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said.

"I heard you this morning in the Great Hall," Malfoy said. "I know you have a dragon. They're illegal! You're going to be expelled! I'm going to tell!"

Harry and Hermione looked at one another. Hermione looked half panicked. Harry didn't feel much better than she looked. Then the door opened again and Harry looked to see who else had joined them, praying it would be Sirius. It was Neville.

"Harry, Hermione, Malfoy's trying to... oh," Neville said when he saw Malfoy.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Malfoy, but there's no dragon. We just came up here to do a bit of stargazing and now, if you don't mind, we're leaving. Come on, Hermione, Neville."

Harry strode purposefully toward the door to the castle and jerked it open, then froze. On the other side, his hand still in the air from where he had been about to turn the doorknob, was Argus Filch. "Dear me," Filch said nastily, "we are in trouble." Harry heart sank into his toes. It was only when Filch reached out and grabbed his arm roughly that he realized he'd left the invisibility cloak on the other side of the tower.

Harry suggested they be taken to Professor Black, as his quarters were closest, but Filch refused, instead dragging them to Professor McGonagall. She answered the door rubbing her eyes and wearing a tartan dressing gown. Malfoy immediately began singing like a canary, telling McGonagall all about how Harry and Hermione had been on top of the tower to dispose of an illegal dragon.

"Well," McGonagall said, her nostrils flaring dangerously. "I think it's clear what's happened here. You two made up this story about a dragon to get Malfoy into trouble."

Neville's eyes went wide with betrayal and Harry tried to motion to him somehow that it was not true.

"Never in all my years of teaching have I seen such a thing!" McGonagall scolded. Knowing some of the things the marauders had gotten up to, Harry very much doubted that was true, but he was far too smart to press his luck. "Four students out of bed in one night! You should be ashamed of yourselves! Every last one of you!" She turned a murderous gaze on each of them in turn, and each of them quailed beneath it. "All four of you have detention, and you have lost your house fifty points!"

"Fifty!" Harry protested.

"Each!" McGonagall shouted. "And I shall be writing to your parents."

Neville immediately began to cry. Harry felt awful for him. He lived with his grandmother, a very stern witch whom Harry was not at all ashamed to admit fearing. Hermione looked as though she were close to tears as well. Malfoy had gone pale. Harry felt miserable; his dad was going to be so disappointed. McGonagall scolded them for a few more minutes, until Hermione finally did break down into tears, and then ordered them to return to their dormitories. When they got there, Hermione ran off the her dormitory crying and Harry tried his best to console Neville, but it was no use. When Harry finally fell asleep, his stomach twisted with dread for what the next day would bring, he could still hear Neville sniffling.

It didn't take long the next day for the news to spread that Harry Potter and a bunch of first years were responsible for the loss of one hundred fifty of Gryffindor's hard-earned points. Hogwarts suddenly became a very lonely place. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stuck together in a small clump and consoled one another with the hope that maybe this would soon be forgotten. Neville was still angry at them, but as the day wore on and no one else was kind to him, his anger softened and he joined in their clump and their consolations.

During their last class of the day, they got a note ordering them to come to McGonagall's office to meet their parents. Ron whispered to Harry that he'd be eternally grateful to Norbert for biting him and sparing him having to face his mum if he'd been caught with them. Harry couldn't help but agree with him. Ron's mum had always been exceedingly kind to Harry, but he never wanted to feel her wrath.

When the children arrived in McGonagall's office, McGonagall and Neville's grandmother were talking to one another angrily. On the other side of the office, James was chatting comfortably with a brown-haired man that Harry thought must be Hermione's dad. "It's sort of like your policemen," James was saying, "I go after the bad guys. We cooperate with your police quite regularly, as a matter of fact."

Harry searched his father's face for any sign of anger. James caught his eye and winked while no one else was looking. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Upon seeing the children, Neville's grandmother immediately commenced glaring at Neville, who stooped his head and began to cry fresh tears. Hermione's dad looked at her sternly. McGonagall made a big production over telling the story of what had happened to the parents, and then each parent took their respective child and left her office.

James led Harry to an empty classroom and shut the door. "What happened?" He asked. Harry told about getting caught, but did not tell about the dragon. He very much doubted his father would be amused by that bit of information. If he was curious about what they were really doing out of bed, he didn't ask. He appeared to accept at face value McGonagall's story about them trying to get Malfoy in trouble. "Why didn't you hide under the invisibility cloak?" James asked.

"I sort of forgot it on top of the Astronomy tower," Harry confessed.

"Oh, no, no, Harry! You can't ever forget the invisibility cloak! You clearly need some lessons in how not to get caught."

Harry almost couldn't believe what was happening. He wasn't being punished at all. Instead, his father told him the location of a few secret passageways around the school and suggested he make use of them. He also recommended a few ideas for pranks. "I'm still waiting for my Hogwarts toilet seat, by the way," he added. Then he promised to get Sirius to fetch the cloak and return it to Harry the next day.

"I won't forget it again," Harry assured him.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had to learn that lesson the hard way as well. The marauders left the cloak in the kitchens our first year after we sneaked down there in the middle of the night. McGonagall was angry, let me tell you. Not as angry as she is at you, but we didn't make up a story about a dragon. She took twenty points apiece off us and gave us detention. She told our parents as well. It was a right mess."

Harry listened to the story and felt better knowing that his dad had once made the same mistake he did. James continued to tell stories about his own school days until Harry was doubled over with laughter. He hadn't realized until that moment how badly he needed a laugh after a day like he had had.

"There is one more thing I want to talk to you about, Harry, and this is serious." James finally said, his voice growing grave and the amusement leaving his eyes. "You should consider yourself and the Malfoy boy even now. I don't blame you for wanting to get revenge for the dueling thing last term, but you should drop it now. There's a very fine line between pranking and bullying, and it's a line you have to be careful not to cross. I'm ashamed to admit I crossed it a few times in my day, and I don't want you making the same mistake."

"I'll leave him be if he leaves me be," Harry said, meeting his father's gaze.

"Not one for being the bigger man, eh?" James said with a smile.

"You don't know him" Harry protested. "He's foul."

"That's no excuse. You can't control what other people do, but you can control what you do. I'm not asking you to be friends with him, only to call a truce. Just ignore him. Pretend like he's not even here."

"I suppose I can do that," Harry admitted glumly.

"Good lad," James said, smiling broadly. "I'm proud at you for being so mature about this."

"Thanks," Harry said, giving his dad half a smile.

"I won't embarrass you by hugging you in front of your friends," James said, wrapping his arms around Harry. Without an audience, Harry found he didn't want to let go. When he did, James was smiling at him. "Come on, it's nearly time for dinner. If McGonagall asks, I scolded you something awful. Got it?"

Harry nodded and followed his dad to the entrance hall. After a brief goodbye, they parted ways; Harry went into the Great Hall to join his friends, and James made his way up to the Astronomy tower to tell brag on his son.


	15. A Revolting Revelation

"Mr. Potter, a word," Sirius said the next day as the first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws packed their books. Harry was subdued, sitting in the back of the classroom between Hermione and Ron. On the other side of Hermione, Neville looked every bit as miserable as Harry and Hermione. Because they were not as well-known, Neville and Hermione had not taken as much ragging as Harry had, but they had still taken their share of it. Sirius had been watching the three of them all through the class. Harry stared, white-faced, at the desk. Neville put his head down and kept it there. Hermione scribbled notes furiously but didn't once volunteer to answer a question. Sirius's heart went out to all three of them; he had once felt like he'd lost every friend he had in the world, and he knew first-hand what a lonely place Hogwarts could be under those circumstances.

Sirius saw the dirty looks his students gave his godson as they left the room. Harry was staring resolutely at the desk, his lips in a thin line. It seemed even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were angry with Harry. Everyone had wanted to see Slytherin lose the house cup for a change. It had been seven years since anyone besides Slytherin had won, so even the other two houses had pinned their hopes on Gryffindor this year.

"How are you holding up?" Sirius asked when the classroom was empty. He entered the row in front of where Harry sat, pulled out a chair, and sat backward in it to be face to face with his godson. Harry shrugged.

"It'll pass." Sirius said reassuringly. "Give it a few weeks, and everyone will have moved on to some new scandal."

"But I've lost the house cup. Everyone hates me." Harry whinged.

"Everyone doesn't hate you. They're mad at you, I'll give you that, but that's not the same as hating you. If it's any consolation, I think what you did was very decent. Your dad would have done the same thing in your place."

"Made up a story about a dragon?" Harry asked, raising his head for the first time to lock eyes with Sirius. There was a mischievous twinkle in Sirius's familiar gray eyes.

"I think we both know that story wasn't made up."

"How did you know that?" Harry whispered. "Does anyone else know?"

"I saw you from my window. I was actually coming to rescue you from Malfoy when I heard Filch come round. I tried to detain him, but he wasn't having any of it. There's nothing in the world he likes more than getting students in trouble. He was like that in my day, too. I always used to wonder why he stays since he obviously hates it here so much. I got the whole story from Hagrid yesterday."

"How did you know it was Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Who else at Hogwarts would have a dragon?" Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Only Hagrid," Harry agreed.

"He's one of a kind," Sirius said with a smile. "I've got your invisibility cloak, by the way." Sirius crossed to his desk and retrieved the cloak from a drawer, then brought it to Harry before taking his backward seat again. "Your dad says to tell you not to forget it again. He also says to tell you to smile."

Harry obligingly gave a weak smile.

"You'll have to do better than that, or I'm going to turn you into a puce ferret."

"What color is puce anyway?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "Isn't it a sort of yellow?"

"Are you going to tell my dad that there really was a dragon?" Harry asked glumly. He knew that James would not have been nearly so easygoing about the incident if he'd known about Norbert.

"Are you kidding? He'll go mental. I might tell him someday, when enough time had gone by that he won't get... how he gets."

"He certainly does seem to worry about me a lot."

"He's your dad. It goes with the landscape."

Harry shrugged. Just then, a third-year Hufflepuff appeared for Sirius's next class.

"That's the cue it's time for you to go. Just keep telling yourself that this will all blow over, Pronglet. And don't forget that you can always come to me if you need a sympathetic ear." Sirius whispered, giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze and then rising to say hello to the Hufflepuff. Harry packed his bags quickly and was late to History of Magic. Luckily for him, Professor Binns was already so involved in his monotone lecture that he didn't notice when Harry slipped silently into the back row.

That evening after a particularly miserable quidditch practice in which the other players, even Fred and George, refused to speak to Harry and referred to him as "the seeker" when they had to refer to him at all, Harry went to Wood to resign. "Everyone hates me. I'm bringing down the team. No one will cheer for us as long as I'm here," Harry said glumly.

"You resigning isn't going to do any good," Wood said. "You're the best seeker we've ever had. We play Ravenclaw in two weeks. There's no time to find someone else. Besides, quidditch is the best chance we have to get back the points you lost."

"But the rest of the team hates me," Harry said, cringing as he heard the whinge in his voice.

"They'd hate you more if you quit," Wood said with a shrug and then walked away. Standing alone in the middle of the quidditch pitch, Harry thought he had never in his life felt so dejected.

A week later, Harry got a note from McGonagall telling him to report to Hagrid for detention at seven o'clock that evening. Harry was relieved he would be doing his detention with Hagrid; at least it wouldn't be too miserable. When Harry arrived at Hagrid's hut that evening, Hermione, Neville, and Malfoy were already there. Hagrid stood with them looking grim, holding Fang's leash in one hand, and an overlarge lantern in the other.

"All right, Harry?" Hagrid asked. Harry nodded. "Glad teh hear it. All right, yeh lot. We'll be goin' inter the forest tonigh'."

"The Forbidden Forest?" Malfoy asked, his voice rising. "The one students aren't allowed in?"

"That'd be the one," Hagrid said.

"You're not scared, are you?" Harry asked Malfoy.

"No," Malfoy said, pulling himself up tall. "I'm not scared. I just don't see why we should have to do servants' work."

"Yeh'll do it and yeh'll shut up about it! Yeh're bein' punished." Hagrid snapped. Harry was impressed. He'd never heard Hagrid be so stern.

Malfoy drooped a bit and followed along as Hagrid led the four students into the Forbidden Forest. Being told off did not stop him from keeping up a steady stream of muttering under his breath. Harry could make out very little except the occasional, "when my father finds out".

Hagrid led them deeper into the forest. He seemed to be searching for something. When he suddenly stopped short, Harry reckoned he had found it. "Yeh see that?" He asked, pointing to a silvery liquid dripping off a leaf. The children nodded mutely. "That's unicorn blood. There's one in here been hurt bad by summat. We're going to find it and help it if we can."

"What if we can't?" Hermione whispered.

"Then we're going to make its death quick and painless," Hagrid said grimly. "We'll split inter two groups. Harry and Hermione, yeh'll come with me. Neville and Draco, yeh'll go together. If yeh find the unicorn or yeh run inter trouble, send up red sparks. Go ahead and practice that." Hagrid taught them the incantation and watched as Neville and Malfoy both used it to shoot red sparks out the ends of their wands. "Good. Don't forget to send up sparks if yeh get into trouble. And don't go too deep. There's all sorts of things in here."

"We get Fang," Malfoy said in a voice that clearly said he expected to be obeyed.

"Fine," Hagrid said, "bet yeh should know he's a ruddy coward."

Malfoy paled but took the leash Hagrid offered him. They had not been separated long when Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid happened across a solitary figure in the distance. As they approached, Harry realized it was a centaur with silvery hair and a palomino body. "Hello, Firenze," Hagrid said. "We're looking for a hurt unicorn. Don't suppose yeh've seen him."

"Mars is bright tonight," Firenze said, looking at the sky.

"Well if yeh do see him, will yeh tell me? Only I'm trying to help him."

"Ruddy stargazers. Can't get more than two words out of them unless they want to talk. They're strange creatures, centaurs. Not interested in anything closer than the moon." Hagrid muttered to Harry when Firenze had wandered away.

Just then, they saw the red sparks that indicated Neville and Malfoy were in trouble. Hagrid went charging through the underbrush with Harry and Hermione on his heels. It turned out Malfoy had sneaked up behind Neville and startled him so badly that he sent up the sparks, thinking he was about to be killed.

"We'll never find anything at this rate!" Hagrid snapped. "New plan. Neville, yeh come with me. Harry, go with Draco." Hagrid lowered his voice and whispered to Harry, "I'm sorry about this. I know yeh don't get on well with him, but we've got ter get this done, and I don't think yeh'll scare as easy." Harry nodded grimly. Then Hagrid addressed Malfoy, "And stop yeh're playin'. If you don't take this seriously, I'll be havin' a talk with Professor Snape about it. Understand?"

"Yes," Malfoy said. Harry waited for him to add, "sir," but he didn't, and Hagrid didn't make him. Instead, Hagrid turned without a word and charged off again, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone in the forest with Fang. The two of them started off, and Harry couldn't have said how much time passed when they stumbled into a clearing. In the middle of the clearing, bathed in moonlight, lay the unicorn, dead. Harry thought he had never seen anything more beautiful, or more tragic.

Harry was just about to send up his sparks to signal the others when there was a rustling in the bushes on the other side of the clearing. As Harry watched, a hooded figure approached the unicorn and put its head down to the unicorn's neck and began drinking its blood. Harry looked on in horror. Malfoy yelled and the figure looked up, silvery unicorn blood dripping off its chin. As it looked at Harry, he felt a stab of pain in his scar so strong that he fell down. Malfoy stumbled away and took off running, yelling at the top of his voice. The hooded figure approached Harry. His head hurt so badly there was no room in him to feel any fear. He only wanted the pain to stop. He was paralyzed against it. He curled into a ball and held his hand to his scar, willing the pain to stop. Suddenly, he heard the sound of hoofs in the clearing, followed by a shout, and the pain began to diminish. When it had eased to an uncomfortable prickle, Harry rose to see Firenze regarding him carefully.

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Mars is bright tonight," Firenze replied, breaking his eye contact with Harry and looking toward the sky.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn," Firenze replied, still looking toward the sky.

Harry waited for him to say more, and when he didn't, Harry prompted him with a "why"?

Firenze turned to Harry, his gaze unblinking and intense. "Unicorn blood will keep a person alive, even if they are moments from death, but it comes at a terrible price. A unicorn is so pure and so innocent, that to kill it for one's own selfish purposes calls down a curse. The person will be alive, yes, but they will live a half life, a cursed life."

"Who would want such a life?" Harry asked, breathless with imagining the horror of what Firenze had just described.

"Can you think of no one?" Firenze asked. Harry shook his head. "We do not speak his name, but he is one who gave you that scar," Firenze told him. His eyes flickered briefly up to Harry's scar, which was still tingling.

"You mean, that cloaked thing, that was Voldemort? But that's not possible. Voldemort's dead." Harry said, his heart beginning to beat very fast when he realized how closely he may have just come to death.

"He is not dead," Firenze said. "By the time he came to attack you, there wasn't enough human in him left to die."

"Do you know how I managed to survive?" Harry asked.

"Harry Potter," Firenze said. "Do you understand the stars?"

"Understand them?" Harry asked, "I don't know. I get good marks in Astronomy, if that's what you mean."

"Astronomy teaches you to see the stars, but not read them. If you watch them long enough, they'll begin to speak to you."

Harry listened carefully. He wondered what Sirius would say about this.

"The stars indicate that we are living in the calm between two wars, Harry Potter. Do you know what is now being kept at your school?"

"The philosopher's stone," Harry said, putting the pieces together in his mind. "If Voldemort's alive, and he gets the stone, that means..."

"Yes," Firenze agreed. "He must not be permitted to have it."

There was another rustling nearby.

"It's not safe for you in this forest, Harry Potter." Firenze said quickly. "Come, we must ride." Firenze dropped down and motioned to Harry to climb onto his back. As soon as Harry had a good grip, he took off at a full gallop and brought Harry to the edge of the forest, where Malfoy, Neville, Hermione, and Hagrid were waiting in various phases of panic.

"Harry!" Hagrid said when he saw them. "Malfoy said... well, never mind. Thank you, Firenze."

"Firenze!" Came a wild voice. "Are you a common mule?"

Firenze dropped to the ground to allow Harry to dismount, then he turned to face the newcomer, a black-bodied centaur with a black mane. He looked wilder than Firenze, somehow, and fiercer.

"It was not safe for Harry Potter there, Bane," Firenze said simply. Then, "Mars is bright tonight."

"Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens." Bane said sharply. "Have you not read what is to come in the movement of the planets?"

Firenze and Bane lowered their voices so that Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear their argument was a heated one. "All right?" Hagrid asked, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Gave us a righ' frigh', yeh did." Everyone looked up when Bane galloped away.

"Be well, Harry Potter." Firenze said, then he turned and followed his herdmate into the forest.

"I found the unicorn. It's dead." Harry said.

"I know, Malfoy told us." Hagrid said, shooting Malfoy an annoyed look. "Come on, let's get yeh lot back up to the castle."

Harry trudged along behind Hagrid, ignoring the curious looks that Hermione was shooting his way. His mind was working over everything he had heard. He couldn't decide if he was terrified to know that Voldemort still lived, or furious that no one had ever seen fit to tell him so before. When he got back inside, he would be sneaking out of his dormitory with a certain mirror, intent on giving his father an earful.


	16. Formidable Fears

By the time Harry had gotten to his common room, he had decided on anger over fear. He charged up to his dormitory and grabbed his mirror from his bedside table. Then he grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk and charged back out the portrait hole and into the first empty classroom he could find. "Dad," he called testily into the mirror. "Dad!"

"Harry!" James said, as his smiling face appeared in the mirror. "How are you doing?"

"You lied to me!" Harry snapped.

"What do you mean?" James asked, his smile fading and his brow furrowing in concern.

"You told me Voldemort's dead!" Harry spat.

"He is," James said. "What's this about?"

"He isn't dead!" Harry shouted. "I've just seen him!"

All the color drained out of James's face. "Where are you?"

"In an empty classroom," Harry reported.

"Do you have your cloak with you?"

"Yes."

"I want you to put it on and go straight to Sirius's quarters. I'm coming straightaway."

"Fine!" Harry snapped. "But I want answers!" Then he rose huffily and hid the mirror in his robes. He threw on the invisibility cloak and made his way quickly to the Astronomy tower. When he arrived, James was already there, standing in the open doorway and looking around for him, his face tense and drawn. Harry fought the urge to use the cloak to give his dad a fright, but instead took the cloak off when he was in front of his father.

"Get in here," James said, quickly, ushering him inside and shutting the door behind them. He had Harry sit in a chair in Sirius's living room while he joined Sirius on the sofa. "Now, what's happened? What do you mean you've seen Voldemort?"

Harry told James then whole story. James's eyes grew wider the longer he listened. Sirius didn't look much better.

"What is Dumbledore thinking, sending first years into the forbidden forest?" James said, standing up and running his fingers uncomfortably through his hair.

"No changing the subject!" Harry snapped. "Why didn't you tell me Voldemort's still alive!"

"We never knew for sure," James said quietly. "I suppose I always knew there was a chance, but I didn't want to believe it. I didn't mean to lie to you, kiddo. I just always hoped he was dead. Oh, this is awful. This is really, really dreadful."

"Dumbledore's on top of it," Sirius said quietly.

"Obviously not that on top of it, if Voldemort's killing unicorns practically under his nose!" James snapped. "I've got to tell Scrimgeour." Rufus Scrimgeour was the head of the auror department and James's immediate superior. Harry did not know much about him except that James found him frustrating to work for due to his workaholic tendencies, which he expected all his aurors to share. He and James had had words about it in the past, but they still maintained a friendly, though strictly professional, relationship. James rushed to the fire, threw in some floo powder, and then dropped to his knees and stuck in his head. Harry usually had to fight the urge to laugh when he saw his father do this. He always found it a humorous visual, a man's body sticking out of the fireplace, but today he was too angry to laugh.

James seemed every bit as distressed as Harry, and Harry felt some of his anger leaving him. James hadn't intentionally left him in the dark, after all. He hadn't know for sure that Voldemort was alive. He found that as he let go of his anger, sheer mind-numbing terror rushed in to fill the void. He decided that he had much preferred the anger.

"Harry, are you all right?" Sirius asked. "You must be scared out of your mind."

"I'm fine!" Harry snapped. But it was a lie. He wasn't at all fine. He felt that his entire world was crashing down around him.

James returned and sat down hard on the sofa. "Scrimgeour's going to get some aurors together and come search the Forbidden Forest, maybe even question the centaurs, see what they know."

"Good luck getting anything out of them." Sirius said bitterly. "They're only interested in supernovas. The whole world could be about to explode and they'd just stare at the heavens and wax poetic about what house Aquarius is in."

"Maybe we can find this Firenze. He seems like he might be willing to help." James said desperately. Harry had never seen his dad so panicked. He was starting to feel a little guilty for having been so angry.

"Harry, can you tell me anything about Voldemort? Anything at all? Like where you were when you saw him or what he looked like?"

"I didn't see his face. He was wearing a cloak." Harry said. Then a rush of realization came through him. "Dad, I think Voldemort knows how to get past Fluffy."

"What makes you think that?" James asked.

Harry worked his mind furiously, trying to tell how he knew this without also getting Hagrid into trouble. "Someone I know ran into a cloaked man in the Hog's Head who had something he really wanted, and he talked this person into telling him how to get past Fluffy in exchange," was how he finally worded it.

"I think it's very noble that you're trying to protect your friends, Harry, but now is not the time." James said firmly. "I'm assuming this someone you're talking about is Hagrid, since Fluffy is Hagrid's dog?"

Harry nodded.

"Damn!" James said loudly. Harry paled. He wasn't used to hearing his dad swear. "Please tell me that the something he wanted wasn't a monster."

"It's gone now. We talked him into getting rid of it," Harry said quickly, hoping his dad wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Well, that's a relief at least. I'll take care of questioning Hagrid, find out how much damage he did." Then he added, reassuringly, for Harry's sake, "and I won't get him into trouble. Although I may have a conversation with Dumbledore about his trustworthiness."

"That's not fair, James," Sirius cut in. "He's got loose lips when his guard's down, but he always comes through in a pinch. I'd trust him with my life."

"Would you trust him with Harry's?" James asked significantly. "Think hard about everything you've heard tonight before you answer that."

Sirius didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." James snapped. "Okay, Harry, what else can you tell me about him?"

Harry told all he could remember about the location where he'd met Voldemort and what little of the man he had seen.

"He had a body? You're sure of that?" James asked, rushed.

"Yes, he was tall, about as tall as Sirius, maybe, maybe a little bit taller. Not quite as tall as you. That's really all I remember. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry," James said, reaching out and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "you've done really well. This is helpful. Did you happen to notice if he had a wand?"

"I didn't notice," Harry admitted, "but I wasn't looking for one. I really only saw him for a minute before I fell. What would have caused my head to hurt like that?"

"I don't know," James said. He was more concerned about that bit of information than he was prepared to let on to Harry. "Maybe we should see if Madame Pomfrey has any insights?"

"No, I don't want to go to the hospital wing," Harry said quickly. "Can't I just stay with you?"

"Yes, of course you can. I'm going to have to work at least a bit, but you can come home tonight if you want, or stay here with Sirius. You can stay with me all weekend if you like. I'll tell Dumbledore where you've gone."

Harry nodded. He didn't want to admit how much he wanted to just go home right now and sleep in his own bed, far away from Voldemort. "Yes, please may I come home with you?" Harry asked.

Just then there was a knock at the door. "That'll be Scrimgeour," James said.

Sirius rose to answer the door, with James on his heels. Rather than Scrimgeour, Dumbledore stood on the other side, looking grave. "Rufus Scrimgeour is here," Dumbledore said, "he has requested permission to comb the grounds with aurors and question my staff. Would you happen to know anything about this, James?"

"You allowed my eleven-year-old to be sent into the Forbidden Forest!" James said, his voice rising. Harry winced. He recognized that tone as the first thunderclap of a coming storm.

"I never would have allowed it if I had known what was in there. I must beg your forgiveness," Dumbledore said quickly, "and I'll do everything in my power to help you."

James jerked his head in surprise. "Thank you," he said slowly. Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. He didn't particularly want to witness a row between his father and his headmaster. "Harry's going to be staying with Sirius tonight, and he's coming home with me this weekend. I'll have him back Sunday night, or maybe first thing Monday morning."

"Very well, I shall inform Professor McGonagall and have her inform his friends so that no one worries about him. Mr. Scrimgeour is waiting in my office. He would very much like to see you."

James nodded, then he crossed over to Harry and hugged him tightly, kissing him on top of the head. "I'll be back. Stay here with Sirius."

"I will," Harry said. Then James was gone. Sirius closed the door behind them and returned to the sofa.

"Are you really all right?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head, his face crumpling.

"Come here, Pronglet," Sirius said softly, holding out an arm to Harry, who came and sat next to him on the sofa. If he'd been a very little bit younger, he'd have wanted to crawl into Sirius's lap, but as it was, he knew he was far too old for such a thing, so he dropped his head onto Sirius's shoulder and willed himself not to cry. He'd never been so scared, or more confused. Somehow he couldn't make his mind understand everything that had happened that night. Only one hysterical thought was running back and forth through his brain. "_Voldemort's alive._"

"Everything will be fine," Sirius said soothingly, running his fingers through Harry's hair. "Your dad will sort everything out." Harry nodded and said nothing. There wasn't anything to say.

By the time James came back, it was the wee hours of the morning and Harry was asleep on the sofa. Sirius had pulled the quilt off his own bed and thrown it over the boy so he wouldn't get cold.

"Did you find anything?" Sirius asked.

James shook his head. "Not a thing. I've never been so exhausted. think I might fall asleep where I stand."

"You can stay in my guest room. I think Harry's doing well on the sofa."

"Is he all right?" James asked. "He must be so scared."

"I think he is, but he's trying not to show it."

"A Gryffindor through and through," James said proudly. He looked at his son, sleeping. "Look at him, he's so big. You remember when he used to fall asleep here, and I could just pick him up and take him home? He fell asleep in the car on the way back from London over Christmas and I could pick him up then. I carried him up the stairs and put him in his bed. But look at him now. I don't think I could lift him anymore. He's growing like a weed."

"Leave him there, then." Sirius said.

"No, I appreciate the offer to stay, but I really want to get home, and I know he does, too. He had to want to go really badly to have asked like he did."

James knelt next to the sofa and began rubbing Harry's shoulder. "Wake up, Harry," he said softly. "It's time to go home."

Harry stirred. "Did you find him?" He asked sleepily.

"No, but we will." James said, taking Harry's hand and helping him gently to his feet.

"Thanks Padfoot, for everything," James said, supporting Harry to the floo. He threw in some floo powder and shouted their address, then sent Harry through. "I'm halfway expecting to find him laid out on the floor when I get there." James said with a weak smile. "See you later, mate."

James followed his son through the floo. Harry was not laid out on the floor. He was in his bed, fully clothed and still wearing his shoes. He did not wake as James took off his shoes and put him into pajamas. Then James pulled up a chair and watched Harry sleep. He didn't leave his son's side until the first pinkish-golden rays of morning were peeking into the window.


	17. Through the Trapdoor

_Author's Note: Just wanted to let everyone know that I've got the first chapter of part three up. It's called "Not for Anything: Attack of the Dementors". Please go check it out if you haven't already._

* * *

The weekend at home with his dad did wonders for Harry's mood. James packed the weekend with so much fun and excitement that Harry hardly had time to be scared. When the time came to go back to Hogwarts, part of Harry didn't want to go.

"There's nothing to be worried about," James told him when they arrived in Sirius's quarters just before curfew on Sunday night. "We're going to get all of this sorted out. Voldemort won't dare come into the castle, not as long as Dumbledore's here. Dumbledore was the only wizard he was ever afraid of."

Harry nodded, trying to believe his dad and willing the knot that had settled in his stomach to unclench itself and leave him alone.

"Everything will be fine," James continued, "and if you need to come spend another night at home, or if you need anything at all, just call me."

"I will," Harry said, then he wrapped his arms around his dad. He felt James kiss the top of his head. He loved the way his dad always did that whenever they hugged. Finally, he felt some of his fears ease. James was notoriously overprotective, so Harry knew James would never have let him come back to Hogwarts if he didn't think it was safe.

When he went back to his common room, Harry gave Ron and Hermione his version of what had happened in the Forest. They had already heard Neville's story, so Harry really only had to fill in the gaps. They were as shocked as Harry to discover that Voldemort was still alive and, more importantly, that he was trying to get to the Philosopher's Stone.

The next week crawled by, and Harry found himself almost relieved about the upcoming Ravenclaw match because worrying about it took his mind off worrying about Voldemort. With Harry's help, Gryffindor had beaten both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, despite Professor Snape's insistence on refereeing the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match and the blatant cheating that ensued. If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw on Saturday, they would win the quidditch cup, and Harry hoped some of his classmates might forgive him for losing the house cup.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent a lot of time with Sirius that week. Neville came along once for tea, but he was so nervous about being in a professor's quarters, much less Professor Black, that he broke two teacups and spilled his tea twice before he decided he'd rather just go back to the tower. Sirius had assured him that he need not worry about either the teacups of the mess, but Neville had refused to return.

The following week saw Harry and his friends sitting exams. Now that the Ravenclaw match had been won, and no one had forgiven him, Harry had plenty of time to dwell on Voldemort. Harry nearly expected him to come bursting into the castle at any moment. The evening after his last exam, Harry made his way forlornly to the Astronomy tower alone.

"Cheer up, Pronglet," Sirius told him. "Everyone will forget over the summer holidays."

"What if they don't?" Harry asked glumly.

"Well, then, I suppose there's always Beauxbatons," Sirius joked. Harry glared at him.

"I don't speak French," Harry pouted. Beauxbatons Academy was a magical school in Southern France and classes there were taught exclusively in French.

"It's never too late to learn. It's a good skill to have. Makes girls go mad when you can whisper a little French in their ear. Here, repeat this. Je t'adore, mon amoure."

"I don't want to speak French!" Harry snapped.

"Then maybe we can send you to America," Sirius suggested. "They speak English over there, sort of, and I hear they've some good schools. There's one in the Rocky Mountains that's supposed to be the best in the world, after Hogwarts. I forget what it's called, but I'm sure you'd be very happy there. You could send Hagrid back a Sasquatch. That'd please him."

"I want to stay here!" Harry said, exasperated.

"Then you'll just have to wait for it to blow over," Sirius said with a shrug.

"What if it doesn't?" Harry asked, frustrated.

"Do you get the feeling we're going in circles?" Sirius asked.

"Forget it!" Harry huffed, lifting himself off Sirius's sofa. He was in no mood for Sirius's games.

"Wait, Pronglet. I was only taking the mickey. I'll stop. Come sit down and have some biscuits."

Harry sat down angrily at Sirius's table and reached for a biscuit.

"You know, when I was in my sixth year, I got on the wrong side of a girl named Matilda Jamison. She was a pretty thing, and very popular. We went out a few times, but she was pretty boring, and horrible at snogging, so I broke it off and she took offense. She stood up right in the middle of the Great Hall and threw pumpkin juice in my face and yelled for the whole hall to hear that I was the worst boy she'd ever snogged. Snape nearly had a stroke, he was so happy.

"Then, to make matters worse, she started a rumor that I wore girls' knickers. I thought I was going to shrivel up and die of humiliation. No one would go out with me for the longest time, which was bad because half my popularity had been based on my legendary dating prowess. It was nearly three months later before I managed to convince another girl to go out with me, but as soon as I did, it was like curse had been lifted. All of a sudden, I was back on top of the world again, and I could have any girl I wanted. It'll be like that with you. Wait and see. As soon as one or two people forgive you, most everyone else will follow suit."

Sirius's story did not make Harry feel better.

"I got even with Matilda, in the end." Sirius told Harry conspiratorially. "I started a rumor that she had a thing for dwarves. After that, she could only get dates with very short people. I ran into her in Diagon Alley a few years back and she slapped me. I can't think why."

That got an appreciative snort out of Harry. It wasn't much longer after that that Sirius had him laughing out loud.

Harry felt lighter as he made his way to Gryffindor tower that night. Then, as he passed an empty classroom, he heard something that pushed all his fears right back to the front of his mind.

"P-p-please. Don't h-h-hurt me! I'll do anything!" Quirrell was begging someone in an empty classroom. There was not a doubt in Harry's mind who was threatening Quirrell. He knew it could be none other than Professor Snape. Harry listened as Quirrell continued to beg, finally breaking down into sobs and agreeing to help his tormentor. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He heard footsteps coming toward him and he took off running toward his common room. There was no telling what Snape would do if he knew Harry had heard his recent exchange.

When he arrived at the tower, he quickly told Ron and Hermione what he had overheard.

"We have to tell someone," Hermione said. "We already know Snape knows how to get past Fluffy and now he knows how to get past Quirrell's defense as well. What if he's figured them all out? We have to do something!"

"Can you call your dad?" Ron asked.

"He doesn't believe me about Snape," Harry admitted bitterly. "He says I shouldn't make accusations without evidence."

"What about Professor Black?" Hermione asked.

"He agrees with my dad," Harry said glumly.

"What about Dumbledore?" Ron suggested.

Harry thought for a moment. "Yes, let's go tell Dumbledore. We've still got time before curfew."

"Does anyone know how to get in?" Harry asked when they arrived at the Stone Gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's inner sanctum.

"No," Hermione admitted.

"I don't," Ron confessed.

"Shite," Harry said. "What now?"

Before either of the other two could answer, the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside, revealing a revolving staircase on the other side. The children were just about to start up when they saw McGonagall coming down.

"What are you three up to?" McGonagall asked suspiciously as the wall closed up behind her.

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore," Harry said. "It's urgent."

"Professor Dumbledore has been called away on ministry business. I am the acting headmistress in his place. Is there something I could help you with?"

Dropping his voice low so no one would overhear, Harry told McGonagall about Snape and the stone. She listened without speaking, though her eyes narrowed a bit.

"I can assure you, Professor Snape is not trying to get to the Philosopher's Stone. I don't know how you three found out about it, but I promise you it's quite safe. And you three would be well-served to return to your dormitories at once." She said sternly.

"But Professor!" Harry protested.

"Now, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall snapped.

Feeling defeated, Harry turned and walked toward the tower, Ron and Hermione on his heels.

"What now?" Ron asked.

"I don't think we have any choice," Harry said darkly. "If no one will help us, we'll just have to get the stone ourselves. We'll wait until everyone's asleep and we'll use the invisibility cloak."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Hermione said cautiously.

"What choice have we got?" Harry asked. "For all we know, he's trying to get to the stone as we speak!"

Slowly, Hermione nodded her agreement. They decided to meet back in the common room at midnight.

When midnight came, he and Ron climbed out of bed quietly and tiptoed down to the common room. Hermione was waiting for them, looking nervous.

"Let's go," Harry said grimly. He was about to cover them with the invisibility cloak when Neville appeared. He had followed Ron and Harry down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Neville asked.

"Nowhere, we're just going for a walk." Harry said quickly.

"You're going to get Gryffindor into trouble again!" Neville said. "Well, I won't let you." He ran to the portrait hole and stood in front of it. "I won't let you past."

"Neville, get away from the hole and don't be an idiot," Ron said.

"Don't call me an idiot!" Neville snapped. "Besides, you're the ones who've been telling me to stand up to people."

"We didn't mean us!" Harry said, annoyed. He and Ron had indeed been trying to teach Neville to stand up for himself, particularly to Malfoy. Harry never dreamed Neville's first attempt at it would be against him.

"I'll-I'll fight you!" Neville said, raising his fists in front of his face.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron looked at one another. Then Hermione lifted her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" She said authoritatively. Neville's whole body went rigid and he fell over with a thunk. "I'm really sorry," she said as they stepped over him and made their way out into the corridor.

Their journey to the third floor was marred only by a chance encounter with Peeves. Despite their invisibility, Peeves heard their footsteps. He went away quickly when Harry impersonated the Bloody Baron, Slytherin's House ghost and the only one Peeves feared. After that, the three continued along their way more carefully. When they arrived at the forbidden corridor, they shed the cloak and stepped inside. Harry had brought along a flute that was gift from Hagrid in order to put Fluffy to sleep, and he began to play it inexpertly as soon as they were inside. As he watched, Fluffy's eyes drooped and he fell asleep. Harry looked toward the trapdoor and his heart dropped. There, by Fluffy's feet, was a harp. That could mean only one thing: Snape was already here. Not wanting to waste another moment, Harry, Hermione, and Ron threw open the trapdoor and jumped.


	18. Searching for the Stone

Harry had just enough time to think about how badly his landing was going to hurt when he landed on something soft and breathed a sigh of relief, which immediately turned to a gasp of fear when he realized the something soft he had landed on was moving. Hermione screamed and jumped off immediately. Harry went to do the same, but his leg was caught. Beside him, he heard Ron struggling.

"It's devil's snare!" Hermione said.

"I can't get to my wand," Harry said.

"Mmmmfmmmm" Ron said. The devil's snare had already begun wrapping itself around his head.

"Do something!" Harry bellowed.

"I'm trying to think!" Hermione shrieked.

"MMMMMBBBBBBDDDD!" Ron said, with more urgency.

"We learned about devil's snare in Herbology. It likes dark places, and hates light."

"Then make some light!" Harry snapped.

Hermione quickly cast her cool flame spell, and the devil's snare recoiled, freeing Harry and Ron, both of whom quickly jumped off the plant.

"Took you long enough, didn't it?" Ron snapped when he had caught his breath.

"What was your plan, then?" Hermione asked. "Were you going to mumble it to death?"

"Would you two stop?" Harry said. "Argue later. We have to go."

Harry ran toward the door on the other side of the room and, turning the large, ornate knob, stepped through to the next room.

It was full of butterflies.

"What in the world?" Harry asked.

"Butterflies?" Ron asked.

"No," Hermione said, astonishment in her voice. "No, they're keys. Look!"

Harry looked closer and realized that they were indeed keys with wings, flittering and glittering all over the room. In the center of the room was a broomstick. Harry crossed the room and tried the door at the other end. It was locked. "Alohomora!" He said, pointing his wand at the lock. It didn't open. "It was worth a try," he said to his friends with a shrug.

"I think we've got to find the right key," Hermione said with a sigh.

"How are we supposed to do that? There are millions of them." Ron asked.

But Harry wasn't listening. He was already searching for the key. He didn't realize how his seeker skills had been honed throughout this past term, but now he found himself intuitively searching out the tiny details on each key.

"Look for a silver one, like the door handle," he told his friends. "The decorations will probably be similar as well. I'm going up there."

Harry mounted the broom and kicked off, searching for the right key. Finally, he found it, knowing it was the right one by its crumpled wing. It had clearly already been caught once tonight. As he went after it, it skittered away, but it was no harder to catch in the end than a snitch, and it wasn't long before it was struggling in Harry's hand. He landed and unlocked the door. Then he let go of the key, which returned to the ceiling, looking all the worse for the wear.

The next room resembled nothing so much as a giant chess board. Harry tried to cross the room but was stopped by one of the chess pieces, which was larger than he was.

"I think we've got to play our way across," Ron said.

"Oh, dear," Hermione said.

"I've never been any good at wizard's chess," Harry moaned.

"I am," Ron said, his chest swelling with pride. "Just do what I say. Hermione, replace that castle. Harry, you'll be that bishop. I'll be a knight." The pieces that Ron had indicated walked off the board, leaving their spaces open for Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Ron was in his element, ordering pieces around with a skill that Harry envied. Wizard's chess was his father's favorite game, and Harry always wished he'd been better at it so he could enjoy their games more. Usually, when Harry played his dad, it was a quick bloodbath, even though James always purposely went easy on him. Harry much preferred to watch James, Remus, and Sirius play.

As the game progressed, and more and more of the pieces were violently taken, Harry began to get nervous. A few times Ron only just realized Harry or Hermione was in danger and moved them to safety at the last moment. Finally, he heard Ron gasp.

"We've won! Harry, after I move, you'll be free to checkmate the king." Ron said.

Harry looked and, a moment later, he realized what Ron had planned.

"Ron, don't. There's got to be another way to win."

"No, I don't think there is. You'll be fine."

"What's happening?" Hermione asked. She did not particularly like wizard's chess, which always surprised Harry a bit. She seemed like the type of person who'd be very good at it.

"He's going to sacrifice himself," Harry told her.

"No, Ron, you can't!"

"I'm telling you, I'll be fine. We'll win." Then, before either of them could protest any more, Ron moved. Hermione screamed when the queen knocked Ron on the head and made to run to him.

"Don't move!" Harry bellowed. "We're still playing!"

She stopped, but she couldn't stop staring at Ron's limp form on the edge of the board. Harry moved forward and called checkmate. The King bowed to Harry, and then Harry and Hermione both ran to Ron.

"I think he's all right," Harry said. "He's breathing."

Hermione nodded, looking concerned.

"We'll get him on the way back. He'll be fine for a little while." Harry said firmly. Then he took her hand and, together, they walked to the next room not knowing what they might find there.

As soon as they were through the door, a horrible smell overwhelmed them. The only thing in this room was a troll on the ground, a large bump on its head. Thinking of the troll painting in Sirius's bedroom, Harry stifled a laugh. Then he and Hermione rushed to the next room. A wall of purple flame sprang up behind them as soon as they were inside. They took a step into the room and a wall of black flame sprang up across the door on the other side of the room. In the center of the room was a table with several liquid-filled bottles of varying sizes. Harry and Hermione went to the table and found a scroll. They huddled together to read it.

"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant, holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."

"It's a riddle!" Hermione said. "I can do this! I know I can!" She read it several times, occasionally pointing at different bottles as she did so. "I've got it!" She finally said. She picked up one of the bottles. "This is the one to move forward. Oh, no, there's only enough for one!"

Harry looked at the bottle in her hand and, sure enough, only a single swallow of liquid was still inside. "What do we do now?" Harry asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it? You've got to go on alone. I know which one will get me back, and I can go get Ron to the hospital wing and send help for you."

"But I can't do it alone," Harry told her. "I need your help."

"Harry, you're a great wizard, much better than you give yourself credit for." Hermione told him.

"I'm not as good as you are," Harry admitted.

"Me? I'm all books and cleverness. There are more important things, Harry, like friendship and bravery and... oh do be careful!" She flung her arms around his neck. Harry stood awkwardly for a moment before returning her embrace.

"I will," he promised, taking a deep breath. Then he watched as she drank her potion and retreated through the purple flame. Feeling more frightened and more alone than he ever had before, he swallowed his potion and stepped forward through the black flames as though they weren't there at all and entered the next room where a lone figure was staring at the Mirror of Erised. It wasn't Professor Snape.

"You!" Harry said, shocked.

Professor Quirrell turned to face Harry.

"But," Harry said, trying to make his mind work. "Snape's the one. He's been trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

"Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he?" Quirrell asked. "Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrell. I had everyone fooled."

"But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, I tried to kill you. And I would have succeeded in another moment, too, even with Snape muttering his stupid counter-jinx."

"This doesn't make any sense," Harry said, a little too loudly. "I heard him threatening you just this evening."

"What you heard this evening was a conversation between me and my master. I am weak, and sometimes the Dark Lord has to be harsh with me. I met him in my travels," Quirrell explained. "I had never met anyone quite like him before. The ideas he has, Harry. You'd follow him, too, if you'd ever heard him. He explained to me that there is no good or evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. I allowed him to possess me and came back here to find a way to bring him back. When I found out about the Philosopher's Stone, I knew it was perfect, and now I almost have it, and there's no one who can stop me." Quirrell turned to the Mirror of Erised. "I see myself with the Stone. I'm presenting it to my master! But how do I get to it?"

"Use the boy!" Said a high-pitched voice. Harry had only a moment to look around for who had spoken before Quirrell ordered him to look into the mirror. Harry did so, his heart beating quickly. In the mirror, his reflection was searching the room, then he picked up the stone, gave Harry a wink, and dropped it into his pocket. Harry felt the stone drop into his own pocket.

"What do you see?" Quirrell asked.

"I'm standing with Dumbledore," Harry lied. "I've won the house cup."

"He lies!" The high-pitched voice said as Harry vowed to get Sirius to give him lying lessons. This was ridiculous.

"Let me speak to him," the voice said.

"Master, are you strong enough?" Quirrell asked, looking concerned.

"I have strength enough for this," the voice said. Professor Quirrell turned his back on Harry and began to unwrap his turban. Harry had just decided to try to make a run for it when the last bit of turban fell free revealing a face on the back of Quirrell's head, a face with red snakelike eyes and a flat nose with small slits for nostrils. The face filled Harry with so much terror he could hardly move. He knew on first sight that it was Lord Voldemort. A red-hot pain shot through his scar.

"Give me the stone, boy," the high-pitched voice said. Harry realized it was Voldemort's voice.

Harry gathered every bit of strength and courage he possessed and bolted for the door. "Seize him!" He heard Voldemort say and then he fell hard when Quirrell grabbed his leg. Quirrell turned him over and began choking him. Then Quirrell let out a cry and looked at his hands. They looked as though the had been burned. "Kill him!" Voldemort commanded. Quirrell resumed trying to choke Harry, but the skin of his hands began to peel and char. Harry's scar hurt so badly he didn't think he could bear it, and he screamed along with Quirrell until unconsciousness took him.


	19. Home from Hogwarts

_A/N: Thanks everyone who reviewed. Several of you seem really anxious to see poor Harry in all sorts of trouble. ;-) I hope you like the way I've handled this._

* * *

Harry awoke in the hospital wing. The first thing he saw was his father's concerned face. "He's awake," James said.

"I'll go get Madame Pomfrey," Harry heard Sirius's voice say, followed by the sound of footsteps. Harry tried to sit up but his father put both hands on his shoulders and held him down.

"Just stay still, Harry," James ordered. "Madame Pomfrey's going to want to look at you."

"Can I at least have my glasses?" Harry asked. James handed them over and Harry put them on. "How long have I been here?" He asked.

"You've been out about twelve hours. Professor Dumbledore found you last night. He got an owl saying he needed to go to the ministry, but when he got there no one was there and he realized he'd been sent on a wild goose chase, so he immediately came back here and went to check on the stone. He found you there with the stone in your pocket and Quirrell attacking you. He says he saw Voldemort."

"Yes, Voldemort was there. He was possessing Professor Quirrell," Harry whispered, feeling a renewed jolt of terror shoot through him at the memory of Voldemort's face.

"You're safe now," James said soothingly, squeezing Harry's hand.

Harry nodded and searched about for something to take his mind off his fears. He found it in the boxes that littered his bedside table, as well as the floor surrounding his bed. "What's all this?" He asked.

"Gifts from your admirers," James told him with a smile. "What happened between you and Quirrell is a secret so, naturally, the whole school knows. Fred and George are the ones who sent you the toilet seat. You mind if I take it with me? I've been waiting all year for you to send me one."

"Go ahead," Harry told him. "Are you really going to put it in the dining room?"

"That was my plan," James said with a wink.

Just then Sirius returned to Harry's side, Madame Pomfrey following along behind. She clucked and fretted over him for a long while before declaring him fit. She ordered him to get plenty of rest, shooting James a stern look.

"I'll make sure he rests," James promised her. "Honestly, you'd think I don't have a clue how to take care of a child," he muttered after she was out of earshot.

"She does that to everyone," Sirius said with a shrug. "It's nothing personal."

Harry sat up in bed. "Sirius, I want you to teach me how to lie," he said.

"Gladly," Sirius replied easily.

"Wait just a moment!" James said. "Why do you want to learn to lie?"

Harry told James and Sirius everything that had happened the night before. "If I was better at lying, I might have been able to get away," he finished.

"I really don't think that's the lesson you should take away from last night," James told him.

"I think that's a fine lesson," Sirius cut in.

"You would," James said, shaking his head. Then he turned his sternest look on Harry. Harry quailed beneath it. "Harry, your ability to lie wouldn't have mattered if you hadn't gone down there in the first place. What were you thinking?"

"Are you mad at me?" Harry asked sheepishly, sneaking a glance into James's face. Their eyes locked and he could see the worry he'd caused his dad.

James took a deep breath. He had promised himself this wouldn't happen, but now that Harry was awake, he was so relieved he hardly had it in him to be stern. Now, looking in his son's worried eyes, so like Lily's, he didn't have the heart to scold. "No, I'm not mad at you," he relented. "But you scared me to death."

"Are you going to punish me?" Harry asked.

Sirius cleared his throat meaningfully. Harry knew that meant the two of them had been discussing this very thing.

"I think I'd like to hear why you thought you needed to go down there on your own before I make a decision about that."

"I wasn't on my own. Ron and Hermione were with me."

"Okay, then, I'd like to know why you needed to go down there alone except for two other eleven year olds."

"They're both twelve!" Harry offered.

"You know what I mean," James said sternly.

"I'm tired," Harry said. "I think I'd like to rest now." He slipped back down into the bed and threw the blankets over his head. "Good night."

"Oh no you don't," James said, uncovering Harry and trying not to laugh. "You're not getting off that easy."

"No one believed us," Harry said softly. "We tried to tell all sorts of people, but everyone kept telling us that the stone was safe and that it was protected and that we should worry about it."

"Why didn't you come to me last night?" James asked.

"You wouldn't have believed me," Harry responded. "I tried to tell you at Christmas."

"You told me Snape was trying to steal the stone," James corrected, "And he wasn't, was he?"

"No," Harry admitted, "But someone _was_ trying to steal it. And no one would help us. If I had told you last night, would you have believed me?"

"I don't know." James said. "Maybe," he added after a pause. Sirius cleared his throat again. "Probably not," James finally admitted. "You're right. I would have told you that the stone was safe and that you shouldn't worry about it." There was another pause before James began to backpedal. "But that doesn't mean you should have gone after it alone."

"I wasn't alone," Harry told him, exasperated. "Ron and Hermione were there and they're really good. Hermione's the best in our year!"

"Well, I suppose that makes all the difference. Three first years can easily take on the most evil wizard to ever live when one of them's best in her year." James muttered. "Listen to me, Harry," he said sternly. "When you are in trouble, you can always come to me. I suppose I can understand why you thought I wouldn't help you, and I'm sorry for making you think that. But next time, at least try me before you go running off into Voldemort's waiting arms."

"I will," Harry assured him. Then he screwed up his courage to ask, "So, are you going to punish me?"

"I haven't decided yet," James said, trying to buy himself some time. While he was waiting for Harry to wake up, he'd had plenty of time to reflect on this very question, but he'd been so worried he hadn't focused on it much. It was impossible to think about punishing his child while said child was lying unconscious in the hospital. He and Sirius had been discussing it, and Sirius campaigned hard for letting Harry off the hook. Sirius usually did; he always said someone had to advocate for the poor boy, not to mention offering a counterpoint to Remus who never seemed to be satisfied that Harry was being properly disciplined. James was torn.

After all Harry had been through - after all the obstacles and all the dangers; after meeting the wizard who had killed his mother, the wizard that other wizards feared above all else; after being attacked by that wizard's evil servant; after all that James's instincts told him that what Harry needed now more than anything was to be hugged and spoiled and told that everything would be all right. Part of James wanted to tell Harry not to worry about it and take him out for ice cream. The other part wanted to grab the boy and spank him right here in the middle of the hospital wing for running head first into so much danger. He had not yet determined which desire he was going to feed.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly again. "All right, fine! No! I'm not!" James snapped. Then he turned toward Sirius. "Would you kindly stay out of it?"

Sirius held up his hands innocently. "I didn't say a word." James immediately cleared his own throat loudly, sticking out his tongue and hacking melodramatically in an imitation of his friend. Sirius laughed. Harry joined him.

"You two are ganging up on me," James said, beginning to laugh himself. "That's not on."

Just then Dumbledore walked in. James and Sirius both stood to greet him. "Are you feeling better now that Harry's awake?" Dumbledore asked James.

"Much," James answered. "But if you're looking for an apology, you're not going to get one. I'd shout at you again if I had it to do over."

"I wouldn't expect any less," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. "Now, would you two mind terribly if I had a private word with Harry?"

Sirius and James agreed and they both left the room, Sirius turning to give Harry a wink on the way out.

"I see you got your gifts. You're quite the hero."

"I really didn't do anything much," Harry admitted. "I wouldn't have even got past the devil's snare if it weren't for Hermione. And Ron was the one who got us across the chess board. Then Hermione figured out the potion riddle. The only thing I did was catch the key."

"And find the stone," Dumbledore reminded him. "That was no small task. Only someone who wanted to find the stone - find it, but not use it, could get to it. That was one of my brighter ideas, and, just between you and me, that is saying something."

"What happened to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked.

"He is gone," Dumbledore answered.

"What happened to him? Why couldn't he touch me?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Dumbledore admitted. "You are something of an anomaly. But I have a theory, and I hope you won't think I'm being egotistical if I say my theories are usually correct."

Harry waited for Dumbledore to continue, but he didn't. "What's your theory?" Harry finally asked.

"I'm so glad you asked," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I believe that the reason Voldemort's curse failed to kill you all those years ago was because your mother sacrificed herself to save you. Being loved that deeply leaves a mark on a person."

Harry put his hand to his scar.

"No, not a mark we can see, but one that resides deep in our soul. You carry your mother's love with you wherever you go, and Voldemort, who is driven only by greed, power, and hatred, can't stand to be near something so pure, so he couldn't touch you."

Harry nodded, trying to understand.

"What happened to the stone?" He asked.

"I've had a talk with Nicholas Flamel about that, and we agreed that it is best for the stone to be destroyed."

"But then, won't he die?"

"He has enough elixir of life left to get his affairs in order and then, yes, he will die. But you shouldn't feel badly for him, Harry. To the well-ordered mind, death is but the next great adventure. For Flamel, I imagine it will be rather like going to sleep after a very long day."

"Will Voldemort come back?" Harry asked.

"That I can't tell you. There are certainly other tricks he could try. Whether or not he will be successful remains to be seen. But for now, you don't need to worry about that. You stopped him tonight, and I am very proud of you," Dumbledore said with a smile.

Harry nodded."I hope my dad didn't shout at you too much," he said softly.

"No more than I deserved," Dumbledore said, smiling.

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"Much of it probably shouldn't be repeated." Dumbledore confessed, his bright blue eyes twinkling. "It's not the worst dressing-down I ever got. That award belongs to Professor McGonagall. But he did run her a close second."

Harry blushed, thinking of his dad shouting at Dumbledore. Then, not knowing what else to do, he offered Dumbledore a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean.

"Oh, no thank you," Dumbledore told him. "I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one. Since then, I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them." Nevertheless, he rummaged around in the box until he found a light golden-brown one. "Although, I suppose I will be safe with this toffee." He popped it into his mouth and made a face. "Alas, earwax."

That night was the end-of-year feast. Harry entered the Great Hall triumphantly. A seat had been placed at the top table next to Sirius for James. Snape sat on the other side of James, scowling at him

"Severus, I wanted to speak to you," James said, turning to him.

"Oh, goody for me," Snape sneered.

"Harry told me about how you were saying the counter-jinx at the first quidditch match. And Dumbledore told me you insisted on refereeing the one after that so you could keep an eye on Quirrell, and I just wanted to say thank you for protecting my son."

"I didn't do it for you," Snape snapped.

"I know," James said, taking a deep breath to keep his temper in check. "But I still appreciate it. More than I could ever say."

Snape glared at James for a moment before he slowly opened his mouth and said, "You're welcome."

Harry was enjoying his new-found popularity. He reckoned every student in the whole school, except the Slytherins, had come round to shake his hand and clap him on the back. He'd told about his face-off with Quirrell so many times he was tiring of the story himself. Beside him, Ron and Hermione were enjoying just as much attention. The only damper on the evening was that Slytherin had, once again, won the house cup.

After the feast, Dumbledore stood up to make his end-of-year speech. "Another year gone," he began. "I hope you have all learned quite a lot this year, and I hope you are excited about having the summer to forget it all. And now, the house cup needs awarding. As the points stand now, Slytherin is in the lead."

There was a loud cheer from the Slytherins. Harry scowled.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said. "Well done, Slytherin. However, I think recent events must be taken into account. Therefore, I have a few last-minute points to give out. First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of wizard's chess Hogwarts has seen these many years, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Harry looked at Ron, whose ears were turning red as people congratulated him and clapped him on the back.

"Second," Dumbledore continued, "To Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."

Hermione hid her face in her arms.

"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."

Those who were good at math had figured up that Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin. The Hall went deathly quiet. No one remembered there ever being a tie before. "_If only he'd given one of us one more point!_" Harry thought.

"Finally, there are many different kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but it takes even more to stand up to our friends. Therefore, I award Mr. Neville Longbottom ten points."

The hall erupted as the decorative banners changed from Slytherin green and silver to Gryffindor red and gold. Harry thought he might explode with happiness, and Neville looked beside himself as his fellow Gryffindors descended upon him to offer up their congratulations.

The next day, Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with his friends feeling on top of the world. Gryffindor had won the house cup. Voldemort had been defeated and, perhaps more importantly, no one was mad at him anymore. Except the Slytherins, of course, but that was almost an added bonus. The trip to London went almost too fast, but Harry was glad when he stepped on the platform and saw his dad waiting for him and smiling.

"I forgot to tell you yesterday," James told him, taking hold of Harry's trunk and dragging it along behind him. "I am very proud of you."

"I know," Harry said, smiling.

"But if you ever do anything like that again, I'm going to kill you." James said matter-of-factly. "And, I suppose I should warn you that Remus will be waiting for us when we get home. He wants to speak to you about it, and I have no intention of intervening."

All the color drained out of Harry's face. "That's not fair!" Harry protested. "I'm a hero!"

"You should try telling him that. See how far it gets you," James suggested, laughing.

"This is going to be a long summer, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Oh, he'll get it out of his system in a month or so." James told his son, throwing his free arm around Harry's shoulder. "I wouldn't worry too much. You should try staring at the vein in his forehead. It always bulges just before he gets particularly wordy. That way, at least you know it's coming and can brace yourself."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"Are you kidding? I've endured more of Remus's scoldings than anyone else alive, except maybe Sirius. You should have seen how mad he used to get when he got in trouble because Sirius and I dragged him along on some dunderheaded scheme. What you'll get will be nothing compared to that. Did I ever tell you about the time we put spiders in Snape's bed?"

Harry shook his head.

"It was our second year. We used to invisibility cloak and followed him around until we got the password to Slytherin common room. Then we skived off potions and sneaked down there and dumped an entire jar of spiders in his bed. Big black ones. That night, we heard him screaming all the way in Gryffindor. I've never seen McGonagall so mad. And, of course, she immediately knew who'd done it. She wouldn't believe us when we told her Remus had nothing to do with it."

"Did he?" Harry interrupted.

"We bullied him into standing guard outside the dormitory." James admitted. "Mostly it was Sirius and I, though. I sort of hated seeing Remus in trouble, and not least because I knew he'd make me miserable for it. It really bothered him to get into trouble. I never could understand it. Anyway, McGonagall caned us all and made us apologize to Snape, which was far worse than being caned. Remus really read us the riot act. He's probably the only person in the world who can berate someone while still smarting from the cane himself. Sirius finally told him to just shut up and he got so mad he wouldn't speak to us for nearly two weeks. I think that was the worst part of the whole thing. At first we kept telling ourselves how lucky we were that at least he wasn't upbraiding us anymore, but we really missed him. We were afraid we'd finally gone too far and he'd decided he was well shut of us. He came around eventually, though. No one can ever stay mad at me. I'm far too adorable."

Harry made a gagging sound as the two of them lifted his trunk into the car. James ruffled his hair and then pushed him playfully toward the passenger side. "Get in, you," he said.

Harry climbed into the car and sat quietly in thought as his dad pulled into traffic. "Will you make me one promise?" Harry finally said.

"What's that?" James asked.

"Promise me you'll rescue me if he goes on longer than an hour."

James laughed loudly. "I might be able to do that." He said, smiling. "I'll think about it anyway. But I make no promises."

Harry groaned. It was going to be a long day.

_The End_


End file.
